A Looping of the Scales
by Ms-Figg
Summary: A potions accident gives Snape a new lease on life by taking part of it away. More to come.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was the weekend, and restored Potions master, Severus Snape, carefully lowered the flame below the bubbling cauldron in his lab. Free of dunderheaded students and marking dismally put together essays and homework assignments, the weekends were his time to play. Only what he was doing was very serious business.

Having survived the attempt on his life by Voldemort, thanks to a bit of preparation involving a Bezoar, a timely Episkey charm and Phoenix Tears, and being vindicated by the testimony of Harry Potter and several Order members Dumbledore wisely put in the know, he had returned to his position of Potions master at Hogwarts. He switched his Defense Against the Dark Arts position with his replacement, Horace Slughorn, who was only too happy to get out of the dank, drafty dungeons.

Snape studied the acid green liquid in the cauldron carefully. He was working on adapting Shrinking Solution to act as a youthening agent for humans. Ideally, it would take years off a person's life, provided it didn't stop his breathing processes while doing so. Shrinking Solution in its usual form made things shrink in size and reversed the aging process as well.

Snape had always believed it to be an underutilized potion that could be used to far greater effect if rendered safe for human consumption with a stabilizer to make the effects permanent. It would be the equivalent of drinking from the fabled Fountain of Youth.

He'd make a fortune if he were successful and could leave Hogwarts School of Mischief and Misery as soon as possible. This was something he dearly wanted. The memories here were just too painful. He'd been through too much.

True, his memories would follow him wherever he went. He'd never be completely free of the demons that plagued him. The death of Lily Potter. The death of innocents at the revels. How he was the vehicle of Tom Riddle's rise to power by providing him with the powerful elixir that maintained him all those dark years. And the look in Dumbledore's eyes just before he killed him.

These things bled from the walls, oozed up from the stone flooring, sung in the castle's constant settlings, and crept up on him when he slept. He couldn't escape who he was or what he lived through. He couldn't stop the pain even though Voldemort was gone. Those dark thoughts were constant companions, just as his scarred body served as a reminder of past tortures every time he disrobed. But leaving Hogwarts might be the first step on a road to some fragile peace. But, he needed money to leave and start anew, and he didn't have much of that.

Yet.

He watched the bubbling slow as the cauldron cooled. He had used all the proper ingredients: evenly chopped daisy roots, skinned shrivelfig, sliced caterpillar, one rat spleen and a dash of leech juice.

For a stabilizer, he experimented with a variety of herbs, extracts and other mediums before he found that using spider web made the youthening effects permanent in the lab animals he experimented with. However, after aging the creatures, he found that a second application was fatal.

The most important ingredients, the ones he believed would make the potion safe for human consumption, were a Bezoar stone, steeped in the solution and Phoenix Tears. He found that heat didn't affect the healing properties of the tears, and the Bezoar was a natural cure for most poisonings.

Still it would have to be tested, and the only one who could do it, was him. He was just waiting to add the Phoenix Tears, just before the bubbling ceased altogether.

He carefully opened the vial of tears held in his pale hand, the bubbling liquid reflected in his dark eyes, watching the surface becoming more and more sedate, the bubbling barely breaking. Yes. Now was the time.

He quickly added the tears with a flourish, stepping back as the liquid churned, turning a vivid and attractive royal blue before becoming smooth as blue glass.

"Yesssss!" he hissed. "Success!"

He quickly walked away from the cauldron to collect a wide-mouthed bottle and a ladle.

And that's probably what saved his life.

"BOOM!"

The cauldron exploded, sending shrapnel, liquid and mist through the lab, breaking bottles and utensils. Several pieces of cauldron were embedded in the wizard's back as he was blown into the shelving. Snape crumpled, unconscious.

He lay there on the floor, his robes pinned to him by pewter pieces, crimson wetness flowering around them. The air was full of fine, misty droplets of his brew and it settled over everything. The frightened nifflers in their cages chattered in fear as their fur was moistened.

On the floor, Snape breathed shallowly, inhaling the fine mist through his ample nostrils. It filled his lungs and was absorbed through his capillaries, sent to his bloodstream and circulated through every portion of his body.

One by one the pieces of iron embedded in his flesh shot away from his body and his wounds began to close and heal cleanly. Beneath his robes, his flesh gained elasticity, the angry raised welts of his scars smoothing and falling in, the stresses in his bone releasing, fissures and healed breaks sealing as if they had never been.

After an hour or so, he awakened, rising up from the floor unsteadily and looking around him, blinking. He was in Professor Slughorn's potion lab. And it was in a shambles!

"Potter," he growled. "I know he had something to do with this!"

He hastily beat a retreat from his Potions professor's laboratory. Even being in it could get him a countless amount of detentions.

He didn't know how Potter and his bloody Marauders managed to pull this off, but he'd find out . . .

and they'd pay.

* * *

A/N: Yet another story trying to wriggle its way to the surface. But, this one had help in the form of :::drumroll:: A plot bunny. That's right y'all. I used a plot bunny given me by the illustrious Kimberly G. Basically Snape is irreversibly youthened and given a clean slate. I know, I know. I'm not supposed to write to people's plot bunnies and I've turned down a good many of them. But when I read the plot bunny I wrote this little scenario down in response to her letter:

_"What about James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew?" he asked Hermione, his dark eyes resting on her face._

_"They're all dead," she said softly. "All of them."_

_Snape's lip quirked._

_"Then, it's a better world already," he replied, pleased._

And that little scene just stuck in my mind and wouldn't let go. And I've never written a young Snape with a young Hermione. Think of the potential for a Weasley/Snape duel or fistfight? Plot bunnies don't usually do that for me. This one did, so I have to write the story. I mean no disrespect to those who have sent me plot bunnies before, but I just didn't feel them and I can't write what I'm not enthusiastic about. I apologize. Otherwise, thanks for reading. Might be a while before I get back to it, but at least it's out.


	2. What's Going On?

**Chapter 1 ~ What's Going On?**

As Snape headed for Slytherin house, he wrestled with his too heavy, too long and too-many-buttons robes.

"These aren't even my blasted robes," he fumed. "They must have stunned me, and obliviated me and oh, I'm going to—"

He stopped in front of the entrance way to Slytherin house.

"Salazar's Slither," he said.

Nothing happened.

"Salazar's Slither."

Salazar's Slither! Who changed the password?" Snape hissed. Then he heard voices and slunk back into the shadows.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini walked up to the entrance.

"Serpensatia," he said, the wall sliding back and the two Slytherins entering.

"Who are they?" Snape wondered to himself as he slipped in behind them.

They walked into the common room. Other students were there, studying, talking, playing chess and Snap. Draco entered with Blaise and paused as everyone seemed to be staring at him. He looked down at his robes in case there was something on them. He looked back up at his housemates.

"Why are you all staring at me?" he asked.

"We're not staring at you, Draco, we're staring at him," Pansy Parkinson replied, pointing at someone behind him.

Draco turned to see a skinny, pale boy in too big robes looking back at him with a rather puzzled expression on his face. His hair was long, black, lank and badly cut and his nose was huge. He sort of looked like a young Snape.

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" he demanded as the Slytherins began to gather around him. "You just don't walk into Slytherin house."

"You do if you're a Slytherin," Snape replied, feeling for his wand and not finding it. Shit. It must still be in Slughorn's lab, unless Potter took it.

"You're not a Slytherin! Who are you? How'd you get in here?" Draco demanded.

"Never mind who I am. I don't know who all of you are, but I'm going to my room to change my robes. Potter played another of his stupid pranks on me, for all I know—this is part of it. Now, get out of my way."

Snape tried to push his way through the Slytherins, but they wouldn't let him by.

"We don't know who you are, but you're not going anywhere but to the Headmistress. None of us recognize you—you don't belong in Hogwarts at all! Grab him!"

The male Slytherins all leapt on Snape, wrestling his arms behind his back and forcing him up the corridor and out of Slytherin house, the witches and younger males following. Snape struggled helplessly, cursing them and demanding they let him go.

Curious students watched as they marched him up the marble stairwell, then through the narrow stairwell that led to the second floor corridor that opened on the shifting stairwells.

Goyle had him now.

"Keep struggling and over you'll go," the goonish Slytherin said, holding Snape close to the edge of the stairs as they changed landings.

"You big oaf!" Snape hissed impotently. He was being ganged up on again, and he had no idea who any of these people were, and he didn't see a single familiar face in the entrance hall. Everyone had been strangers.

Finally they reached the floor where the Headmistress' office was. The Grinning Gargoyle was already standing to the side. The Headmistress had an open door policy. All anyone had to do was knock.

"Come on, walk!" Goyle said, pushing Snape up the spiral stairwell, followed by Draco, Blaise and the rest of the Slytherins. Other students had joined in as well.

They arrived at the top of the stairs and Draco knocked on the door.

"Come in," a female voice with a Scottish accent answered crisply.

Draco turned the knob and Goyle shoved Snape through the door as hard as he could. Snape stumbled in, catching himself on a large ornate desk. He whirled on them, furious.

"If I had my wand I'd slice you all into wriggling pieces!" he snarled at the frowning group of students.

"My word! What is this?" Minerva said, shocked at such a violent threat made right in front of her. "Who is this?"

"We don't know, Headmistress. He just walked into Slytherin house as if he belonged there and tried to get past us," Draco said, frowning. "He claims Potter did something to him."

Snape was still facing Draco and the rest of the Slytherins, his chest rising and falling from the fury he felt. What was going on here?

"Potter? Harry Potter? You there, turn around," Minerva ordered from her desk. "Let me see you."

Snape turned, his black eyes narrowed as he looked at Minerva McGonagall.

"Not Harry Potter. James Potter!" he hissed at her. Then he asked,"Where's the Headmaster?"

But Minerva didn't speak at first as she slowly rose out of her chair, staring at the young man before her. Snape slowly cocked his head, recognizing her, kind of. But she looked different, much, much older now. Her hair had been black, but it was iron grey now. Still, she was wearing Tartan robes. She always wore Tartan.

"Professor—McGonagall?" he said weakly, blinking at her.

"That's Headmistress McGonagall," Draco snarled behind him.

"Draco—ssssh. That's enough," Minerva said, walking around the desk and staring at Snape in amazement. She drew close, her beady eyes taking in every detail of his face.

Minerva McGonagall began teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year 1956. And she never forgot a student's face. Particularly a gifted student's face. Especially a gifted, troubled student's face.

"Severus?" she said in a near whisper. "Is that—you?"

Snape blinked at her, an odd, nauseous feeling welling up in his belly at the look in her eyes. It was a horrified look, as if something were terribly, terribly wrong with him.

"Yes. I'm Severus," he replied. "Severus Snape. What's happened to you, professor? Did you take an aging elixir?"

There was an "oh," and a soft thump as Minerva fainted dead away. Snape looked down at her, then turned to the Slytherins, who now all stared at him round-eyed. Every single student was pale and looked scared to death.

"What?" Snape hissed and they drew back as if he'd taken a swing at them.

If this was Snape, they were in a world of trouble. They had just manhandled their Head of House.

Behind Minerva's desk, the portrait of Albus Dumbledore studied the young man before it, the blue eyes twinkling.

"Extraordinary," it said softly.

* * *

A/N: Just another little part. Thanks for reading.


	3. What? No!

**Chapter 2 ~ What? No!**

Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Ron were down by the lake. On such a lovely day, they should have been enjoying the fresh air and each other's company.

But no.

They were down there with piles of books and parchments, studying, thanks to Hermione who believed all the running about trying to find Horcruxes and killing Voldemort had knocked what little knowledge Harry and Ron had managed to absorb over the years right out of their heads, and she was determined they got it all back. So, she wasn't just reviewing fifth and sixth year work, but fourth and third as well.

"You've both got to get back on the broom, particularly if you want to be Aurors," Hermione said imperiously.

"I was actually thinking about working with George, Hermione," Ron said to his girlfriend.

"You still need to study," she snapped back at him. "Now, do that Arithmancy problem and stop complaining. Honestly."

Ron sighed. Ginny was smirking. She was just along for moral support although she was studying too. Hermione wasn't on her like she was the two wizards. Ginny still had another year to go.

Ron groaned and looked over at Harry, who was studiously reading an Advanced Herbology textbook. Or appeared to be. Inside it was a very small Quidditch magazine. Hermione eyed him. Harry was never that absorbed in reading. Ever.

She walked up and snatched the book out of his hand and looked at it.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed, holding up the offending little magazine. "Harry—how do you expect to---"

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Ginny! You're never going to believe this!"

Hermione was cut off mid browbeat mode by a very excited Neville, who was running toward them, his robes whipping around his legs. He was shouting at them.

"Believe what?" Ron said, putting down his parchment, glad for a break.

"Snape. It's—it's Snape," Neville said, leaning on a boulder and attempting to catch his breath.

"What about Snape?" Harry asked with concern.

"He's—he's—"

"Dead?" Ron offered helpfully as both Harry and Hermione scowled at him. Ron still felt he was a git despite all he'd done. He certainly wasn't any nicer. You'd think the death of Voldemort would have softened him a little. But no, Snape was even snarkier than ever. No one realized that Harry's constant attempts at forming a bond with him was irritating beyond belief to the dark wizard.

The boy couldn't seem to understand what, "Just go away and stay away," meant. Snape fervently wished Voldemort had taken Harry Potter into the Great Beyond with him. He just added to the bad memories every time he walked into view.

"No—not dead," Neville panted. "Not—dead."

"Neville, just take a moment and breathe. Don't talk. Just breathe," Hermione suggested to the over-excited wizard.

After a minute or two, Neville was able to form a coherent sentence.

"There's been some kind of potions accident and Snape's been turned young," he blurted out.

"Young? How young?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Well, I haven't seen him, but they say he's about our age," Neville replied. "He's in the infirmary with McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and professor Flitwick."

"Wow," Ron said. "He's young enough to kick his arse."

"Ron!" Hermione said disapprovingly.

"Just a thought, Hermione. I wouldn't really do it, unless he started it."

Hermione let out a sigh as Harry started gathering up his books.

"I want to see him," he said as he stuffed everything in his knapsack. Everyone else followed suit as Neville waited.

"No one can see him," Neville said. "They're being hush-hush about it, but everyone knows what happened. And Harry—"

"Yeah?"

"Draco said he blamed what happened on your father."

They all started walking toward the castle.

"My father? But my father's been dead for years. Snape knows that."

Hermione's brows furrowed.

"Maybe he's been turned young in mind, too," she suggested.

"In mind?" Ron repeated.

"Yes. Maybe when he lost his age, he lost the memories associated with that age. Your father wasn't dead when he was our age, Harry."

Harry looked incredulous.

"But that would mean, he wouldn't remember joining Voldemort, or spying or anything," he said.

"Yes," Hermione said, looking a bit sad. "And it would mean that he doesn't know your mother's dead either, Harry."

Harry frowned. He remembered from the memories given him how broken Snape was when he found out his mother was dead, and he was older than he was now. This was awful. He was going to have to go through that again.

"Let's get to the castle," he said, speeding up.

* * *

Snape was sitting on a cot in the infirmary in just his dingy underwear, red-faced and sullen as Poppy and Flitwick passed wands over him and spoke cryptically to each other.

"There's no magical signature other than his natural one. I'm not registering any spell," Poppy said to Flitwick, who was standing on a chair and doing his own checking.

"Spell? What spell?" Snape asked. He'd been taken aback by Poppy's appearance as well. He remembered her much younger. Flitwick looked like he always did. Little and ancient.

"Be quiet, Severus," Flitwick chided him.

Snape fell silent, but marveled over Flitwick's familiar use of his first name. Usually students were addressed by their surnames and a Miss or Mr. added according to their gender.

Flitwick finally put down his wand and shook his head.

"No, there's no additional magical signature. Without a signature, a spell cannot degrade or wear off. Whatever has happened to Severus, it appears to be permanent," the wizard said.

"What's permanent? What's going on?" Snape demanded, frightened.

"You can get dressed, Severus," Poppy said to him sympathetically, picking the robes up off the chair. It was then she smelled the dried blood and looked at the robes. On the back was crusted blood that stiffened the fabric, holes in the middle of them. Quickly she walked over to Snape, leaning him forward and inspecting his back. It was fine, except she could see the bones of his spine, but that was because he was thin.

"What is this blood from?" she asked him, holding up the robes.

Snape shrugged.

"I don't know. Those aren't my robes," he replied. "Someone put them on me. I'm sure it was James Potter and his friends."

Poppy and Flitwick looked at him sadly.

"Severus, what year is it?" Flitwick asked him.

"What?"

"What year is it?"

"The year? 1978."

Poppy and Flitwick looked at each other and Snape knew he wasn't being told something important.

"I'll bring you a set of robes that fit you, Severus, then you can get dressed."

Poppy and Flitwick exited through the privacy curtain and Snape was left alone and next to naked on the cot. He shivered slightly.

"How is he?" Minerva asked Flitwick as Poppy retrieved a set of better fitting robes for Snape.

"Physically, he's fine, Minerva, but I fear whatever he's done to himself, it's permanent. There are no magical signatures coming off of him that indicate he is under temporary magic or an influence that will wear off."

"You mean we can't restore him?"

"I'm afraid not, not completely. Aging spells are temporary on humans, and I'm afraid that Severus' problem goes much deeper than just his physical age. He thinks the year is 1978, Minerva. The year he graduated."

Minerva covered her mouth with her hand in horror.

"Oh no, Filius," she said in a muffled voice.

"He's lost his memories. It's as if his entire adult life has been—erased."

Minerva plopped down in Poppy's chair.

"How are we going to tell him, Filius? How are we supposed to tell him his entire adult life has been wiped out?"

"Carefully," the Charms teacher replied. "We have to be careful how we tell him."

Just then, the doors to the infirmary opened and Hermione and Harry entered, floating a groaning Ron before them on a stretcher.

"Oh my, what's happened to Mr. Weasley?" Poppy exclaimed as they entered.

"He was whomped off his broom by the Whomping Willow. He flew too close during a game of Broom Tag," Harry lied.

Hermione didn't look at Poppy, she was looking at the boy who emerged from behind a black privacy curtain and was walking toward them quickly, his face in a snarl.

His face was pale, his nose was huge and his hair was lank. Gods, was this what Snape looked like when he was younger? He stormed up to Harry, hate flashing in his eyes.

"Where'd you put my wand, Potter? Tell me now or I'm going to—"

"I'm not James Potter," Harry said quickly.

Flitwick and Minerva ran out of Poppy's office.

"Harry, no!" Minerva cried out, and Snape looked over at her then back at Harry, who kept right on going.

"I'm Harry Potter. James Potter's son. My mother was Lily Evans," he said.

Snape blinked at him.

"What? What are you trying to pu—"

Then, he saw them. The eyes. He stepped closer staring into those familiar eyes. He recognized those green orbs staring back at him out of James Potter's face. Snape stepped back, shaking his head slowly.

"What's—going—on—here?" he asked in a whisper as everyone stared back at him.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" he screamed. "I don't believe you! I don't believe you!"

Snape ran out of the infirmary.

"Oh, catch him, Harry!" Hermione cried.

Harry tore after Snape, running through the students outside, some of whom were following Snape too as he caught the stairs, riding them up to the seventh floor, then tearing down them to Gryffindor tower. A girl was coming out of the entrance and Snape pushed her aside, running into the common room.

"LILY! LILY!" he screamed, then tried to run up the stairs to the girl's dorms. Of course it turned into a slide and he slid down. He turned to the stunned students and grabbed Parvati Patil by the arm desperately.

"Please, could you go get Lily Evans?" he asked her. "I need to see her!"

Harry ran in and skidded to a stop as he heard Snape ask for his mother.

"There's no Lily Evans in Gryffindor," Parvati said, trying to pull her arm away.

"What do you mean there's no Lily Evans? She's going to graduate this year! She goes out with that slug, Potter! Lily! Lily!"

Harry walked up and pulled Parvati's arm out of Snape's grip as the boy called for Lily as if his heart would break. Harry caught his shoulder.

"Professor, she's not going to answer you, because she's not here. She hasn't been here for years," he said gently.

Snape whirled on him.

"What's—what's happening?" he said brokenly. "Where's Lily? Where's everyone?"

"Lily Evans—Lily Potter—my mother is dead," Harry said softly.

Snape looked into those green eyes and felt something break apart inside him. He knew, he just knew this boy with Lily's eyes was telling him the truth.

"No—nononononono, she's not! She's not! Lily! Awwww Lily!"

Tears streamed down his face as Snape dropped to his knees, great sobs wracking his body as everyone stared at him. "No, how can she be dead? How?"

"Voldemort killed her. Tom Riddle," Harry said quietly.

Snape stopped crying and looked up at Harry his face distorted.

"Now I know you're lying. He would never kill her . . . he knew how I felt about her, how I feel about her. You're lying! LYING!"

Snape jumped up and ran out of the common room, kicking at the portrait until it opened then flying down the stairwells, jumping from them and nearly missing in his haste. He tore across the entrance hall and out to the grounds, running, running, running until he hit the gates and climbed over them, unable to unward them.

Lily. No, not Lily. She couldn't be dead. He stood outside the gate, unable to figure out what to do, the world reeling around him. He wanted to go see for himself. He needed to see for himself. Suddenly, he heard a soft voice.

"Is there somewhere you'd like to go?"

He looked up to see a bushy-haired witch with brown eyes looking back at him. Hermione had headed out of the castle for the gates the moment he and Harry headed for Gryffindor Tower. She knew he'd run away because she would do it too, if she was in his shoes.

Snape's face was still wet from his tears.

"Yes, I want to go to Lily's house at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging in Surrey. Her parents live there—"

Hermione wanted to tell him that Lily's parents no longer lived there. Her sister Petunia had rebuilt and took over the house after they were killed, and now lived there with her husband Vernon and their son, Dudley. But the look of desperation in his eyes wouldn't let her do it. Ron and Harry were running across the grounds toward them, trailed by other students.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Ron called as Hermione walked up to Snape, took his arm and Disapparated with him.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	4. Finding Lily

Chapter 3 ~ Finding Lily

Hermione and Snape reappeared in front of 4 Privet Drive with a crack of thunder.

Inside the house, Petunia was washing dishes and Vernon was watching the telly. Dudley was off with his friends. Petunia paused when she heard the thunder crack.

"Sounds like we might be in for a bit of a storm, Petunia," Vernon called out from the comfort of the sofa.

She peered up at the sky through the small window over the sink. The sky was overcast, but there were no dark, angry thunder-producing rain clouds. She felt slightly uneasy as she went back to doing the dishes

Outside, Snape stared at the house as Hermione stood quietly beside him.

"It's different. It has two floors," Snape said, wiping at his eyes. He stood there, staring, afraid of what waited behind the house's front door.

Hermione tried to take advantage of his hesitation to steer him away from what was bound to be a very painful encounter.

"You don't have to do this. We can go back to Hogwarts—"

"No!" he hissed at Hermione without looking at her. "I want to talk to Lily's parents."

Hermione watched him walk up to the front door, hesitate and then knock.

"Petunia, the door!" Vernon called. He was lying on the sofa. He was closer to the front door than Petunia, but it took a lot of effort for him to get comfortable on the sofa with his great bulk.

It took even more effort to get up again.

"I'm coming, Vernon," Petunia sang out, drying her hands and untying her apron. She rested it over the back of the kitchen chair, then patted her hair before exiting the kitchen, walking through the living room, into the foyer and opening the front door wearing her "Welcome to our home' expression.

She took one look at the boy standing on the steps and let out a shriek that made Vernon roll of the sofa and hit the floor.

"No! No it can't be-- It's impossible! It can't be—you!"

Snape stared at the tall, slender horsey-faced woman before him, amazed. This was clearly Petunia Evans, but she was so much older.

"P-Petunia?" he rasped.

Petunia shrieked again, stumbling back from the door into Vernon.

"Petunia? What's wrong?" Vernon asked, grasping her bony shoulders as she pressed by into him.

She pointed a long finger at the tall, pale boy standing on the steps in black robes.

"It's him. That horrible Snape boy! It's him, Vernon! I don't know how, but—"

She shrieked again, collapsing against his thick shoulder.

Vernon's piggish eyes narrowed as he looked at the robes. He didn't know who Snape was, but he recognized the manner of dress. He was one of them.

"Get out of here! We're finished with you lot!" he snarled at Snape, his face turning purple, making him resemble a rather large, bulky grape. "We've only just settled in and we don't need your kind around mucking up the atmosphere!"

Snape blinked at him.

"Where's Mr. and Mrs. Evans?"

Vernon looked surprised. He blew his mustache upward like a walrus before answering the young wizard before him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans? There's no Evans here, boy. They were killed years ago in a gas explosion," he informed him.

Petunia began to gather her wits and straightened, Vernon's beefy hand holding her arm protectively.

"Killed?" Severus asked, his face going ashen.

"By your kind!" Petunia spat at him, recovering immediately. "The authorities said it was an accident, but I know better. They died the same day the Potters did."

"The Potters?"

"Yes, the Potters! And it was all because of your kind—you and your blasted wars!" she hissed.

Snape blinked at her.

"The Potters died? James—"

"No, not James, the bloody coward, but everyone else in his family. He and Lily went into hiding. She left me to deal with the funerals and rebuilding the house. She didn't care what happened! All she cared about was her own life!"

Snape swallowed, feeling relief. So, she had escaped.

"Where is Lily now? Can you tell me?"

Petunia stared at him.

"You are Severus Snape, aren't you? Some kind of—of magic made you like this, didn't it?" she asked him in a low voice. "You don't know what's happened, do you?"

There was an unholy, vindictive light in Petunia's eyes as she looked at Snape. He had always been so dismissive of her, treating her like dirt because she had no magic and taking up all of Lily's time regaling her with stories of how wonderful it was to have magic. Well, it didn't end up so wonderful after all, did it? Still, his treatment had hurt her and she never really got over it.

"I-I don't know what's happened to me," Snape admitted. "Please. You said Lily escaped. Please, can you tell me where she is?"

Petunia looked back at Vernon, who narrowed his eyes at her before she turned back to Snape.

"Certainly I can tell you. She's at Godric's Hollow," Petunia replied, a slight smile on her face. "She's been there for years."

"Godric's Hollow?" Snape repeated, feeling relieved. "That's where she lives?"

"That's where she is," Petunia said cryptically.

"Thank you. Thank you, Petunia!" Snape exclaimed, turning and running back to Hermione as Petunia watched him with cold eyes.

"Come on, take me to Godric's Hollow. That's where Lily is!" he cried, taking her arm.

"But—but professor," Hermione said, horrified. He didn't understand.

"Take me there, now! Please. I knew he was wrong! I knew it. Tom would never hurt Lily!"

Hermione looked at the Dursleys standing silently in the doorway. What awful, awful people. Petunia closed the door.

"Please. Now," Snape implored her.

"All right," Hermione said, her voice slightly hoarse as her eyes began filling. "I'll take you to Godric's Hollow."

* * *

They reappeared in Godric's Hollow, in the center of the town square. There weren't many people about. There was a post office, a pub and a church with a graveyard behind it. It was a small, rather rural town. In the middle of the square was a war memorial.

Snape released Hermione's arm and looked around, his black eyes resting on the post office.

"Come on, we can find Lily's address there, I'm sure," Snape said, starting to walk toward the post office.

"Professor, wait," Hermione said.

Snape spun.

"Stop calling me, professor," he hissed at her, annoyed because she was holding him back.

Hermione's face was full of trepidation at what she was about to say next.

"I want you to look at his war memorial first," she said softly.

Snape's eyes flicked over the tall, rectangular stone structure.  
"I see nothing special about it," he said impatiently.

"You have to move closer," Hermione said, her heart heavy.

"Fine, but this is a waste of time. I want to see Lily," he said, stalking up to the memorial.

"I'm here. Now what? I don't see anythi—"

He stopped talking and stared up at the memorial as Hermione looked on sadly. It had transformed. It had changed into three statues of a man, a woman and a baby in the woman's arms. Snape stared at the stone woman, his lip trembling.

Slowly, he moved closer and read the inscription.

"Dedicated to James, Lily and Harry Potter, Who Fought the Good Fight Against Evil."

"What—is—this?" Snape breathed, his eyes going back to Lily's image.

"It's a memorial to—"

"NO! Take me to Lily! I want to see Lily!" Snape cried, spinning on Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, even as she took his arm.

"All right."

* * *

Hermione helplessly stared down at the sobbing wizard sprawled on the ground, his hands full of earth as he lay in front of a slightly bleached tombstone. Etched on the tombstone was:

**Lily Evans Potter.  
Beloved Wife of James Potter  
Beloved Mother of Harry Potter  
January 30th 1960 – October 31st 1981**

"Noooo! No! Lily! Lily!" he sobbed, digging at the earth as if trying to pull her back from the permanence of death. "Why? Why did this happen? How could it happen? He prom—he promised me she'd be mine again—"

He fell into choked sobs again, his face pressing into the earth. A medal hung from the tombstone, awarded posthumously for Lily's service. James' grave was next to hers, also adorned with a medal. Snape looked up at it, then launched himself at James' grave, grabbing the medal and flinging it away as Hermione looked on horrified.

"You did this! It was you, I know it! You were always sticking your wand where it didn't belong, you bloody arsehole! You got her killed!" he raged at the gravestone, kicking up the dirt over James' remains. "Why did she ever get involved with you? Why?"

Snape continued to mutilate James' final resting place until he sank to his knees, exhausted and miserable, his hands between his knees and rocking, making moaning noises. They stayed there for hours, Hermione retrieving James medal and holding it, not daring to return it to the stone as Snape mourned. Finally, the sun began to sink and dusk covered the graveyard, mists starting to rise.

"Professor, we have to go," she said softly.

Snape looked up at her. "Go where?" he asked. "There isn't a reason to go anywhere. She's dead—gone."

"You have to leave here. You can't stay here," Hermione told him gently.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do!" he hissed at her.

"Please. Don't do this. There's nothing you can do to change this. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry you hurt so badly—but—there's nothing you can do—and I'm sure—"

Hermione hesitated as Snape stared up at her, his sorrow and pain so evident it made her heart hurt.

"I'm sure Lily wouldn't want this—"

She fell silent, but her tears spoke volumes.

Snape could barely perceive the wetness and her sympathy. Slowly he stood up, looking down at Lily's grave.

"I'm so sorry, Lily. So sorry," he breathed, his voice catching.

Hermione walked around him and replaced the medal on James' grave. Snape saw it, and his face contorted, but he didn't do anything. He simply turned and began walking toward the gate, Hermione hurrying to catch up to him.

They walked silently to the square again, then Snape turned to her.

"Do you know how to get to Spinner's End? I want—I want to see my mother," he said softly.

Hermione stared back at him, the message in her eyes making the need for words unnecessary.

"She's dead, too?" he asked her.

"I think so," Hermione replied. "But you still own the house, I know that much."

"That means my father's dead as well. Good. Still, I want to see it. Will you take me?"

"Of course," Hermione said, gently taking his arm.

Snape looked down at her as if finally really seeing her, his eyes drifting over her bushy hair and plain features.

"Thank you," he muttered.

They Disapparated.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	5. Further Insight

**Chapter 4 ~ Further Insights**

They reappeared on a cobbled street by a river in an almost defunct industrial mill town. The mill itself was closed, a tall thin chimney rising into the semi-darkness, seeming to hover like an old wraith over the area.

Hermione could smell the dirty river. Rubbish was strewn along the steep banks of it, the grass tall and uncut before culminating at a little tow-path. Little brick houses in were on the other side, extending back from the street. Old mill workers homes, it seemed.

"This way," Snape hissed, walking quickly.

Hermione followed him for several blocks through linked alleyways and streets. The houses and the street lighting were in poor repair, but she could smell fish and chips, so there must be a shop nearby at least, which meant there were customers and the place wasn't as deserted as it appeared.

At the end of a row, and separated from the rest of the houses, was Snape's home. It was tiny but two-tiered. Snape walked up to the door which opened on the street.

"Wait. Be careful," Hermione said to him. "This is your house, but—there could be protections. Nasty protections."

"Check for me," Snape hissed at her.

Hermione pulled out her wand and tested the door. She caught a bit of different magic, a slight signature. She turned her wand on Snape and checked his signature. It matched that coming off the door.

"I think you can enter," Hermione said, then pointed her wand at the door. "Alohamora."

Snape turned the knob and the door opened. Hermione could only imagine what terrible things could have happened if someone else had twisted that knob. Snape pushed the door open and stood blinking into the gloom before he entered, Hermione following. She lit the tip of her wand so they could see.

"There's a candle lamp hanging there," Snape said, pointing at it. The air smelled of leather and closeness.

Hermione used her wand to light the candle lamp and Snape looked about the tiny sitting room. There were so many books. They lined the walls and shelves even hung off the backs of the three doors that led to the outside, the kitchen and to the narrow staircase that led upstairs. A ragged sofa, armchair and table were grouped under the candle lamp.

"These books—what—where?"

"I think they're yours. You have a huge collection at Hogwarts as well, or so I've heard. Your quarters are supposed to be stacked from top to bottom with books."

Snape walked over to a shelf, looked at a title, then pulled out the book.

"My father has to be dead. He never would have allowed this," he said softly. He began blinking rapidly, his eyes welling up.

"My mother would have loved this—these books. She loved books. She loved to—"

His voice broke and he put the book back, turning toward Hermione.

"What year is this?" he asked her.

"1999"

He blinked at her for a moment, then weakly lowered himself into the tattered armchair. Hermione tentatively sat across from him on the sofa, watching him as he placed his head in his hand.

After a few minutes, he looked at her.

"What's your name?" he asked him, his face slightly contorted.

"Hermione Granger," she answered softly.

"You know who I am, obviously. Did I travel back in time?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, there was some kind of accident. I think it involved a potion that made you younger somehow."

"How is it I was in Slughorn's laboratory?"

"That wasn't Slughorn's laboratory. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was your laboratory. You are—were the Potions master for Hogwarts. For many years."

"A Potions master. Yes. That makes sense. I was probably adapting a potion. I did that a lot—everything can be improved. It was probably Shrinking Solution. I always thought they didn't do enough with that—"

"Shrinking Solution is deadly to humans," Hermione said suddenly.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her.

"I know that, but it probably wasn't by the time I finished with it. It had to be that," he snapped at her as if she didn't know what she was talking about. "But, I made it work, didn't I?"

Hermione nodded.

"But I didn't think it would do this, taking away my memor—"

Snape stopped talking as he noticed something gleaming that was partially under some magazines on the table. He reached over and grabbed it, pulling it out. It was an Order of Merlin.

"What is this?" he asked Hermione.

"Your order of Merlin. You received it for the services you rendered. You were a spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

"A what for who?"

"For the Order of the Phoenix. They were a group that fought against Lord Voldemort—"

"Lord who?"

"Lord Voldemort. Tom Riddle. That's what he called himself."

Snape frowned.

"I spied on Tom? Why would I do something like that?"

Hermione didn't answer him and Snape drew his own conclusion.

"Lily," he said softly, then covered his face again, shaking his head. Hermione could see wetness between his palm and skin. He suddenly looked up at Hermione.

"Tom. Is he dead?" he asked her, his voice thick.

"Yes. Harry killed him," she replied.

"At least he avenged his mother," the boy said heavily.

"He wouldn't have been able to do it if not for you," Hermione informed him. "You protected him without his knowledge the whole time he was at Hogwarts at a terrible price to yourself. You protected all of us as best you could, until you killed Dumbledore."

"I WHAT?" Snape roared at her jumping up. "That CAN'T be true! How would I be at Hogwarts if I killed the Headmaster? I'd be dead or at least in Azkaban!"

"He was dying and sacrificed himself to save Draco Malfoy and to make you seem loyal to Voldemort, I think," she said. "He was very sick. You couldn't cure him. It took great courage for you to do that. Everyone branded you a traitor and you were hunted for the longest. But you were still Dumbledore's man—"

"This—this is insanity! This is too much! Spying! Murdering people! Lily—Lily dead! Do you really expect me to believe this?"

"I can show you proof—proof of everything if you come back with me to Hogwarts," Hermione told him softly. "You're in the history books and newspapers. You can find out about your life that way, fill in some of the missing pieces."

"Hogwarts is no longer my Hogwarts. My school evaporated with my memories. There's nothing for me there," he said. "You'd better go back. I'll stay here."

"And do what? Stay here and do what?"

"What I do doesn't concern you! Just because you took me a few places doesn't mean you can order me around! Get out! Leave me! I don't need you!"

Snape had a wild look in his eyes now as he snarled at Hermione.

"But—your wand. Don't you want your wand at least?"

Snape's snarl disappeared.

"Your wand is probably in the Potions lab."

Snape looked thoughtful.

"I had thought James took it. Him and his—wait. What happened to Sirius Black?"

"He's dead."

"Remus Lupin?"

"Dead."

"Peter Pettigrew?"

"Also dead."

Snape's lip quirked.

"Even though Lily's gone," he said softly, his dark eyes glittering maliciously, "it's a much better world without those bloody marauders in it. I'm glad they're dead. Every one of them. Especially Black."

Hermione didn't say anything. Snape's statement was a terrible thing to say, but knowing his history, she understood it.

"Yes, I do want my wand," Snape told her. "I'll go back to the castle, but I will have to return here. Slytherin house isn't my home any longer."

"You could stay in your teacher's quarters. That's still yours. You haven't been dismissed yet," Hermione said softly.

"Teacher's quarters?"

"Yes."

"I don't know. I just want my wand," he replied. "Come on."

He exited the house and Hermione followed. She checked it again. Yes, she could feel the signature. The magic was still there. Snape held out his arm, frowning at her.

She took it, and Disapparated back to Hogwarts.

* * *

"Where are they, Harry? They've been gone for hours!" Ron seethed, walking back and forth as they waited in the entrance hall for Hermione to return.

"I don't know, Ron, but I'm sure they're fine," Harry said, trying to placate him.

"I don't care if 'they're' fine. I just hope Hermione is all right. Snape was crazy when he left here. Stark raving nutters, Harry. He could have done anything to Hermione!"

"Hermione knows how to take care of herself, Ron. There must have been some reason she Disapparated with him," Harry said.

Ginny sat quietly on the last step of the marble staircase, watching Ron fume. It had to be hard to deal with his girlfriend running off with another wizard.

"She just ignored me and took off with him, Harry. What am I supposed to think?" he asked his friend, who adjusted his glasses and frowned back at him.

"You're supposed to think she's helping him in some way, Ron. That's what," Harry said darkly.

"Helping him. Phhhft. That's not her place. Snape's not her concern. She should have left it to McGonagall. He's her staff member."

Headmistress McGonagall gave them special permission to wait to see if Hermione and Snape returned. It was now after curfew, which was why Ron was so upset. They were to report to her immediately if and when they returned.

"You know how soft-hearted Hermione is, Ron," Harry said. "That she'd try and help Snape isn't really a surprise is it?"

"That soft heart is supposed to be for me, not him," Ron said unreasonably.

"Come on, Ron. Imagine if you were Snape and found out the person you loved was dead? That the entire world just changed around you and nothing was like you remember. How would you feel?"

"I don't know how I'd feel, Harry. But I don't like Hermione running off with him like that!"

Suddenly the door opened, and in walked Hermione, followed by Snape. Harry froze as Ron charged forward.

"Hermione! Where did you go? Why didn't you stop when I called you?"

He looked at Snape with dislike. Snape returned the favor, then said, "I'm going to the Potions lab" and proceeded to billow past Ron, then Harry, who he gave half a glance, then began to descend the dungeon stairs.

"Wait," Hermione called after him.

Snape stopped and turned, looking at her.

"I'll go with you," she said.

"No! You won't go with him. We have to tell the Headmistress you're both back and I'm sure she's going to want to talk to you," Ron said, catching Hermione's arm as she tried to walk toward the dungeons.

"You let me go this instant, Ronald Weasley, and stop acting like a caveman," she hissed at him.

Snape disappeared down the stairwell. He didn't have the time or inclination to deal with this.

Hermione looked over and saw he was gone.

"Now he's gone, Ron," she snapped, pulling her arm away from him.

"He's not gone. He's going to the Potions lab," Ron retorted. "He doesn't need you to walk him there. He knows where it is. Now, where did you go with him? What did you do?"

Hermione glowered at Ron, then said, "That's none of your business."

"What? It is my business. You're my girlfriend. I care about what you do with other wizards."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Do you? Fine. I gave him a pity shag. Are you satisfied?"

Both Harry's and Ginny's mouths fell open as Hermione stalked away from Ron and up the marble stairwell.

"I'm going to tell the Headmistress we're back," she announced, then disappeared down the first floor corridor.

Flabbergasted, Ron just watched her go. She reappeared on the second floor landing and caught a shifting stairwell.

"She didn't mean that, Ron. She was just mad you were giving her the third degree. You did sound like you were accusing her of something," Harry said to him as he watched her catch another set of stairs, growing smaller as she ascended.

"Yeah, Ron. She just said that," Ginny said to her brother. "Hermione would never do that, and you know it."

"I know she hasn't done it with me lately," Ron said in a low voice, scowling.

"She hasn't it with Snape at all. Let's just go back to Gryffindor tower and get some sleep. Hermione's back and Snape's fine for now. We'll find out where they went after she cools off," Harry assured Ron.

"Well, she didn't have to say that," Ron complained as they all slowly walked up the stairs. "The very idea of her shagging Snape at any age gives me the creeping fugwugs, pity or not."

They walked up the stairs, Harry looking over the railing for a moment toward the dungeon entrance. He wondered what Snape was doing down there.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	6. Finding His Place

**Chapter 6 ~ Finding His Place**

Snape walked down the dungeon corridor, the flickering torches and silence giving it an even eerier atmosphere than he was used to experiencing. He stopped in front of the Potions classroom. If it were locked, he wouldn't be able to get to the lab. He pushed the door and it swung open with a loud creak.

He entered and looked around. Now that he was focused, he could see that this wasn't the classroom of his memory. Slughorn had posters of ingredients all over the walls, and there was a bright airiness despite the class being in the dungeons. But this place was dark, dismal. There was nothing on the walls, nothing to distract the eyes. There was a list of ingredients written on the blackboard. Snape stared at the large desk and swivel chair. The only slightly ornate thing in the class was the gargoyle in the corner, spewing water into a basin. Actually, it was pretty grotesque.

Snape approved of the somber atmosphere. A person would focus on what they were doing. Slughorn was a decent Potions teacher, but Snape found him too—jovial and too concerned with flattering and giving legs up to students he thought exemplary. He never paid Snape too much attention. Although he was excellent in potions, he wasn't the kind of boy who was popular, but dark, strange and Slughorn felt—a bit sinister. He'd had enough of sinister young wizards when Tom Riddle was around, although he had been very popular—too popular in fact.

Snape walked down the short corridor that led to the Potions lab, and stopped as he heard a noise. Then he slunk forward. The door to the lab was cracked and light was coming out of it. He thought he saw a shadow.

He didn't have a wand, but was curious to see who was in a lab that technically belonged to him. He eased up to the door and looked around it, only his eyes and large nose visible.

There was a short, bald wizard in there, poking around and muttering, "Where are they? They must be here someplace. He couldn't work without them, could he?"

Snape blinked. The wizard had his back to him and was rather broad. There was something familiar about that voice. The wizard turned around. He had an enormous walrus-like mustache, a round belly and wore very old-fashioned clothes.

Snape walked into the lab.

"Professor Slughorn?" he ventured.

"Severus!" Slughorn gasped. He jumped a bit guiltily at the sudden address.

Snape stared at his old potions teacher. His mustache used to be a kind of gingery-blonde, and he had some hair the last time he saw him. But now he was completely bald and his mustache was white.

"Er—I'm here looking for clues as to what happened to you, on Minerva's orders of course," the wizard blustered.

"Minerva?"

"Ah—yes—you've forgotten, haven't you? The headmistress. That's her name. Minerva."

Snape just looked at him.

Slughorn moved closer, now examining the youthened wizard with a critical eye.

"It's absolutely amazing," he breathed, "you look exactly like you did when you were my student. Do you have any idea what you were working on when this happened?"

"No," Snape lied.

There was something in Slughorn's eyes that he didn't like.

"Well, I've tested for Dark Magic, but there is no signature to suggest its use, so, it must have been a potion you were working on—I couldn't find any notes—"

"I need to find my wand," Snape said shortly.

Slughorn was trying to find out what he was working on so he could steal it, he was sure. Snape began to look around the ruined lab. It was clear there was an explosion. His dark eyes fell on a long smear of dried blood over by the shelving, then on pieces of cauldron embedded in the shelves, one large piece even stuck in a wall. This had been a deadly explosion. How did he survive it?

"That potion you were working on, it could be worth a fortune," Slughorn ventured. "Are you sure you don't know what it is? I—many people could—er—benefit from its properties. Be restored to their youth—"

Snape located his wand under a desk in the corner and picked it up. It looked so worn but he could feel its power and felt safer now that he had something familiar in his hands. He looked at Slughorn.

"I don't know what I was working on, professor. But I don't know how beneficial a potion that takes off years while wiping out your memories would be."

"Those are just details, Severus, just details," Slughorn said. "You've always been rather brilliant with potions—I'm sure if you devoted yourself to recreating whatever it was, you'd be able to figure it out again—"

"I'm more interested in trying to find my place than working on potions," Snape said to him, yawning. He was so tired.

"I can't find any notes," Slughorn said, looking around the lab again. "Nothing on your experiments."

Snape just looked at him. He certainly didn't know where they were, if there were any at all. He'd always been rather careful with his notes about potions and spells. He kept them in his Advanced Potions book, which he always kept on him. Only once had it come up missing for several days, before mysteriously appearing on his Potions desk again.

Then, James hit him with the Levicorpus spell he'd created down by the lake, and he knew the Marauders had studied his work. It was ironic that the hexes he developed to protect himself were in the hands of his enemies. Ironic and aggravating.

"Maybe I kept them in my head," Snape suggested with another yawn.

"That would be a tragedy if true," Slughorn sighed.

Snape felt his eyes growing heavy. He was too tired to go back to Spinner's End tonight.

"Professor, can you show me how to get into my quarters?" he asked the wizard, who frowned at him. He wanted some information, and Snape wasn't being forthcoming.

Then he smiled. No need in making bad feelings. He could look around some more after Snape retired. He'd find something.

"Certainly, my boy. Follow me," he said, rolling out of the doorway. Snape followed him through the classroom and down the short hall to the door that opened on his office. Slughorn opened it and Snape went stock still as he saw all the jars filled with liquid, plants and creatures behind the desk. A frog suspended in purple liquid twitched spasmodically.

Slughorn looked at the gruesome display and shook his head slightly.

"I must say I've never appreciated your decorative tastes, Severus," he said tightly as he walked over to a shelf of books and pulled one out. The stone wall slid back and to the side, leaving an opening. Snape didn't notice as he stared at the jars.

"These are mine?" Snape asked, drawing closer and studying the specimens.

"Every blessed one," Slughorn replied with a shudder.

Snape gave a little smirk at how awful they were. Students must have hated coming to his office.

"Now, you pull out this book to get into your quarters," Slughorn directed, showing Snape the black bound book titled, "Entering the Dark Domain." Snape turned and walked over, memorizing the title and eyeing the door.

Slughorn walked through, followed by Snape. It was a study, and there were books, thousands of books from the floor to the ceiling, lining the walls. Snape's eyes rounded. He had liked collecting books, but damn! This was definitely obsession!

"You pull this torch to the left to open the wall from the inside," Slughorn informed him, his face twisted in disapproval at the study.

When he stayed here, there was plush carpeting and other amenities. But now, the stone floors were bare and only a writing desk, a sofa, two armchairs, a liquor cabinet and a small table furnished the place. It was sparse and very dungeon like. A cold hearth finished it off. The only bit of decoration was the Slytherin standard hung over the fireplace.

Severus thought it perfect. He grew up poor and was used to having just the bare necessities. That was reflected in his private quarters. All he needed to be comfortable was here. He pointed his wand at the fireplace.

"Incendio!" he hissed, igniting the wood within. He turned to Slughorn.

"Thank you, professor Slughorn. I should be fine from here," he said, dismissing the wizard.

"I hope to talk with you again, Severus. We really need to figure this out. You could be quite famous if you recreate that potion. Very famous."

Snape frowned at him slightly.

"Aren't I famous already?" he asked Slughorn. Hermione had told him he was in the history books.

Slughorn cleared his throat.

"Ah—yes. Yes you are," Slughorn admitted.

"So, why would I want even more fame? I'm not sure I want what I have," Snape said to him coldly.

Slughorn frowned.

"Just think about the potion," he said irritably, leaving the study, the wall sliding over and closing behind him.

Snape's stomach gurgled. He was more than hungry. He looked at the fireplace and the box resting on top of the mantle. He walked over and took it down. It was Floo powder. One of the perks of being a teacher. He cast a handful into the flame of the fireplace and it turned green.

"Kitchen?" he called through.

"Is the kitchens!" a squeaky voice replied. Snape gave a small smile.

"I want fish and chips, with salt, vinegar and mushy peas," the wizard ordered. "And a pumpkin juice."

"Yes, sir. It will comes shortly," the house elf replied. The fire turned red again.

Snape straightened, looking around the study again, then walked over to the writing desk. He sat down and pulled open the top drawer. There was a ledger in it. He opened it and scanned it, his eyes rounding as he saw the amount of Galleons he had in Gringotts bank. To an older, more knowledgeable Snape, two thousand Galleons wasn't enough money to do anything of consequence with. It was the equivalent of ten thousand pounds, or about twenty thousand dollars. But to an eighteen-year-old wizard who had grown up with hardly a sickle in his pocket, it was a bloody fortune!

"I have this much money?" he breathed.

He closed the ledger and rifled through some papers, but didn't find anything interesting until he felt the bottom of the drawer shift slightly. He pulled it up and felt around under it, pulling out a small, yellowed photograph. It was torn, and a picture of Lily Evans. Not the Lily he remembered. She was older, smiling and waving at the camera.

She was still beautiful. But why was the picture torn?

Snape stared at her image, drinking it in. She looked so happy, so alive—

Alive.

No, she wasn't alive.

She was dead, probably dust now—gone. Gone—forever. Because of James. Because of Tom. Because the world was cold and dark and unfair. Because—there were no gods.

Snape blinked away the water in his eyes. What would he do now? Everything he had done, he'd done with the hope of getting Lily back into his life. Now, she was gone. His purpose was gone. His very reason for existence was gone.

What was there to live for now?

Nothing.

A house elf winked in and placed Snape's food on the table. Snape quickly wiped his eyes and did his best to look unaffected as he slid the plate and juice toward him. He noticed a blue flask as well.

"I didn't order this. What is it?" Snape asked the elf, who bobbed a bit.

"That is Sleeping Draught, sir. It is what the Snape needs," the elf said nervously. "Needs sleep. No dreams. No—pain."

Snape blinked at the house elf. It had brought him what it believed he needed. House elves lived to give good service after all, and he did need a good sleep after the day he'd had.

"Thank you," he said to it, and the creature smiled.

"The Snape never thanks. This is greatest honor," it said happily before bowing and winking out.

"The Snape never thanks?" Snape muttered as sprinkled a bit of salt and vinegar on his food and bit into the crisp battered fish. "The Snape never thought he'd ever be in a situation like this either."

Snape finished his meal, then drank down the Sleeping Draught.

He barely made it into his sparsely furnished bedroom before falling face first into the bed fully dressed, his snores loud and his sleep, mercifully dreamless.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	7. The Next Morning

**Chapter 6 ~ The Next Morning**

Hermione kept looking around the Great Hall as they ate their breakfasts, hoping to see Snape, but he didn't appear.

"I wonder where he is?" she said to no one in particular.

A sullen Ron sat across from her, saying nothing and picking at his food, a sure sign he was upset.

Minerva was having an animated discussion with professor Flitwick on the dais as they ate, the other staff members listening in as they discussed what to do about the Potions master.

"He can't be expected to continue to teach, Filius," Minerva said. "And the final NEWTS are coming up. The students have to be prepared."

"Perhaps he has completed his lesson plan for the year, and we can utilize that. The staff can teach the seventh year classes. They are mostly review at this point. Slughorn can cover the classes that actually require brewing," Filius suggested. "But, what do we do with Severus himself? He's already graduated, technically."  
"Yes, but Filius, we can't be sure if his previous marks will be recognized. This is quite a situation we have on our hands. We're going to have to consult the Board of Governors and see what their decision is," Minerva answered.

Filius nodded.

"I also think I need to examine him further. I need to see if there are any deep-seated memories that aren't surfacing," Filius told her. "Perhaps if there are, I can bring them to the surface and at least part of him will be restored."

Minerva looked thoughtful.

"Do we want to do that, Filius? Burden a young wizard with memories as devastating as his? He has been through so much, so many horrible situations and tortures. This could be a new start for him, Filius. He could have a happier life without those memories."

"Minerva, I understand your point, but a part of him is missing, a part integral to his make-up, his character. It is his experiences that made him the man he was," the Charms professor said softly.

"But, he's no longer a man, Filius. He's a boy. A boy shouldn't be burdened with all that," the Headmistress responded.

Flitwick sighed.

"Minerva, we don't know if he retains any of those memories. Quite possibly, he doesn't. If he does, we can give him the choice of bringing them to the fore or leaving them buried. It can be his decision," Flitwick said.

Minerva nodded.

"After breakfast, go to his quarters, Filius," she told the wizard, who nodded.

* * *

After breakfast, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and a sullen Ron walked around the lake and Hermione recounted what she did with Snape.

"I figured he would run first, so I waited outside the gates for him just in case. He was so upset, he didn't see me, and he looked so lost. So I asked him if he wanted to go someplace and he said yes—"

Hermione hesitated, looking at Harry.

"He said he wanted to go to 4 Privet Drive, Lily's house," she said softly.

Harry looked shocked.

"But that's Aunt Petunia's house! And Uncle Vernon. I thought they bought it!"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, it was your grandparent's house, Harry. Your aunt and mother grew up there. Snape wanted to talk to your mother's parents. He thought they were still alive and could tell him where Lily was."

Ron lost his sullenness, interested now.

"So, what happened, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Well, he talked to your aunt, Harry—and she told him your mother was at Godric's Hollow and had been there for years. But—she didn't tell him she was dead, Harry. He thought she was alive, that she lived there and begged me to take him—"

"And you didn't tell him?"

"I—I couldn't Harry. You should have seen him. I took him to the square and showed him the memorial, but he wouldn't acknowledge it, he wanted to be taken to your mother—"

Harry's eyes gleamed brightly and Ron shook his head sympathetically. Ginny just stared at Hermione, slightly horrified at what she had to show Snape.

"So I took him to the gravesite. He went crazy," she said softly. "And that's where we were for several hours. I just stayed with him while he ranted and mourned. We didn't even speak. He couldn't. He was beside himself. Then he asked to go to Spinner's End, to see his mother. She's gone, too."

"Did you take him?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"He was going to stay there, but that wouldn't have been good. I talked him into coming back to Hogwarts for his wand. He said he was going to go back but I spoke to Hagrid this morning and he said no one left the grounds last night. The gates record whoever enters and exits. Even Snape climbing over the fence was recorded, and I'm sure he stayed in his quarters last night."

Ron looked down at the ground and kicked a small stone, then looked over at Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I just didn't realize how bad off Snape was. You know how thick I can be," he said softly.

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"I know Ron, and you were worried about me. It's okay, but try to show a little more restraint before you fly off the broomstick," she chided him.

"I'm working on it," Ron said, giving her a little smile in return.

There, they'd made up. They'd seal it with a kiss or two later. Hermione didn't do public kisses or hand-holding or anything like that. She believed public displays of affection to be a sign of burgeoning sexual exhibitionism.

"In other words, you're a prude," Ron told her when she laid down the laws.

"I am not!" she snapped back at him, reddening. "I just prefer not being seen snogged against some corridor wall like I'm some kind of trollop."

"Did you actually say 'trollop?'"

"Yes, I did, Ronald Weasley! Trollop!"

"All right. All right," he said softly, placating her.

Hermione held all the cards in this relationship and she was very slow about throwing them into the pile.

"So, what do you think Snape is doing right now?" Harry asked Hermione, who shrugged.

"I don't know," she said.

* * *

Snape sat very still as Flitwick invaded his mind. It was very uncomfortable and he was hard put not to slam down his Occlumency walls on the little wizard. He hated anyone trying to get into his head. He and Lily had practiced Legilimency and Occlumency very early and were good at it by their fourth year. Snape was particularly good at Occlumency because he didn't want Lily to see his desire for her. It was very physical and he was sure she would have been put off.

After about forty-five minutes, Flitwick exited Snape's mind and climbed off the arm of the sofa, shaking his head.

"There's nothing, Severus. Not a speck of your adult life in your head," the wizard told him.

Snape already knew this.

"The Headmistress wants to see you immediately. She wants to discuss some personal matters with you, and try to sort out the next best step," Flitwick informed him.

Snape didn't say anything but just stared at Flitwick until he felt uncomfortable.

"I'm just going to go. If you need anything, let me know," the diminutive wizard said, walking across the study and using his wand to open the wall.

Snape watched him go silently. He'd taken his breakfast in his rooms, then browsed through his books. He had nearly been snatched by a demon when he opened one book of Dark Magic, but he ducked when it grabbed at him, its talons whooshing over his head, then it was sucked back into the book. Apparently, there was only one swipe per opening. Snape gingerly put it back on the shelf.

He wondered if he had actually read all these books. One thing was for sure, he had a hobby now.

The wizard sighed. He couldn't hunker down in the dungeons forever. He needed to talk to the headmistress. He didn't know what she'd say, but it was obvious he couldn't be a teacher any longer. He exited his rooms and made his way up the dungeon corridor.

He passed a number of Slytherin as he walked, all of them looking after him but not greeting him. They just didn't know what to say. He was too young to comfortably call professor, and they didn't want to be too familiar in case he turned back into his snarky self. So they played it safe and said nothing.

Snape entered the entrance hall and was just about to walk up the stairs when a voice called out, "Professor! Wait!"

He hesitated, then continued up the stairs. The voice drew closer.

"Professor," it said insistently.

Snape turned to see Harry looking up at him.

"I wanted to know if you'd like to talk?" Harry asked him.

Snape blinked down at him. Gods, he looked so much like James that his reaction was the same as if he was his father.

"No, Potter. I don't want to talk to you. Do me a favor and stay away from me."

"But—but I just want—"

"James Potter always wanted something and didn't particularly care how he got it. Just leave me alone. We won't be friends, believe me," Snape said quietly.

His black eyes flicked over to Hermione, who was standing alongside Harry, then they moved to Ron, who was frowning at him because of what he said to Harry. He looked at Ginny for a split second.

"I may not have all my memories of my adulthood, but I still know Gryffindors and how they operate, no matter the generation. I am not going to be your 'project.' I don't need your help or your pity. I'll get along without you, Potter, I'm sure."

Snape then walked up the stairs and down the first floor corridor, taking the narrow stairwell to the second floor and the shifting staircases.

"Eighteen or eightty, he's still a prat," Ron said under his breath. "All you were doing was trying to be friendly, Harry."

"Harry looks just like his father, Ron. It has to be hard for him to separate the two, he was targeted so much," Hermione said, watching Snape ride the stairs upward. Passing students stared at him as he made his way up to the floor where McGonagall's office was located. No one spoke to him.

"It's like the sins of the father have been passed down to the son," Hermione added. "I feel so sorry for him. He's so—alone."

"He wants to be alone, Hermione. Harry just held out the olive branch and he stripped all the leaves off it," Ron replied. "You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I say we just leave him to it. Come on, Harry. Let's go flying before Hermione ties us to our books. We've only got a free two hours before she starts cracking the whip."

Harry watched as Snape got off the stairs and disappeared down the corridor, then sighed.

He had hoped to get to know the wizard better, even become his friend. This was a great opportunity to let the past go. But it seemed some things just didn't get better with time, or the lack of it. He and Ginny followed Ron. Hermione remained at the base of the stairs, looking thoughtful.

"Are you coming, Hermione?" Ron called back at her.

"Ah, no. I'm going to go to the library. I need to collect some things," she said.

Ron let out a sigh. She was probably going to get a pile of books to numb their brains even more.

"All right. We'll meet you down by the lake in two hours," he said, heading out the door, followed by Harry and Ginny. Ginny had discretely entwined her fingers in Harry's fingers, silently offering him comfort and they exited the castle hand in hand.

Hermione went to the library and began looking for every piece of history on Severus Snape she could find.

Snape might not want help, but he needed it.

She'd wait for him by his office.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	8. Blowup

**Chapter 7 ~ Blowup**

"Please take a seat, Severus," Headmistress McGonagall said to the sullen wizard standing before her.

Snape took the armchair in front of Minerva's desk and stared at her, not speaking.

Minerva's eyes blinked rapidly behind her glasses, filling with tears.

"Severus, Miss Granger told me about your travels yesterday—you have my deepest sympathies," she said softly. "I'm sorry you had to relive that loss again and even at a younger age—"

Snape's mouth tightened, but that was his only reaction. He wouldn't let anyone see him grieve again. His pain was private and he didn't want it being bandied about.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he asked the Headmistress.

Minerva sighed.

"Well Severus, this is your situation as it stands. You are eighteen again. You are technically an adult albeit a very young adult and in a much different situation than you were your—first time around."

"How much different?" Snape asked, frowning.

"Well, after you graduated from Hogwarts you had certain—er—resources, and—well—a sponsor, of sorts. This enabled you to continue your potions study and helped you develop your skills enough to become a Potions master at this school—"

"How old was I?" he pressed. "How old was I when I became a staff member?"

"You were twenty-one. The youngest teacher ever to serve at Hogwarts," Minerva answered softly.

"Twenty-one," Snape repeated, frowning slightly. "Why would I be hired at such a young age? I may have been skilled, but still—my age—"

"There were extenuating circumstance, Severus—"

"Lily's death—"

"That was part of it, yes. Dumbledore wanted to keep you close—"

"Yes. Because I was his spy, wasn't I?"

"Severus—"

"I have a feeling I was used my first time around," the boy said darkly.

"No—no that isn't true, Severus," Minerva insisted, although guilt was tightening her belly. She hadn't been part of Albus' deception but she still felt the wrongness of it.

"Who was my sponsor?"

"What?"

"Who made it possible for me to continue my potions studies after I graduated?"

Minerva blinked at him, not wanting to give him an answer. She didn't have to give it.

"It was Tom Riddle, wasn't it? He was my sponsor, wasn't he? He took me in, which meant my parents must have died after I graduated, either that, or I chose not to go back to Spinner's End."

He looked up at Minerva sharply.

"What happened to my parents? To my—mother?"

"She died, Severus," Minerva said, hating that she was having this conversation.

"I know she's dead. I want to know how she died," he breathed, his face contorting.

Minerva once again blinked back tears.

"Your father strangled her, then threw himself into the river and drowned," she said softly.

Snape's eyes closed tightly and his knuckles turned white from his hand clenching the arm of the chair, his nails digging into the wood as he took in her words. His father finally did it, the bastard. He began to breathe heavily, fighting back his rage.

Minerva watched him, her heart aching as he courageously tried to hold in his feelings. She pulled out a tissue from a box on her desk and offered it to him.

"You can cry, Severus. Let it out, my dear," she said softly.

Snape looked at her, his face ashen but determined.

"I don't have time to cry. Just help me figure out what to do now."

Minerva withdrew the tissue and sighed again.

"I've sent a message to the Board of Governors concerning your—situation, Severus. It may well be you'll have to take the NEWTS over since taking them aren't a part of your experience now. If that is the case, you will stay here at Hogwarts, in your quarters. The staff is going to take over your classes. Luckily, you had written out your lesson plan for the year in entirety, so it can easily be followed."

"I'd like to take my NEWTS," he said shortly. "I've studied for them."

Minerva nodded.

"Then, I'll make the arrangements for that. I also believe that you should do some research to—to find out about your life before this unfortunate situation occurred. Even if you don't remember it, knowing it will be some help to you. Harry Potter received some of your memories—"

"WHAT?" Snape shouted, jumping out of the chair in shock and anger. "Why? Why does he have my memories?"

"It was necessary, my boy," a voice not Minerva's answered. It was male and familiar.

Snape looked around the room wildly.

"Who said that?" Snape demanded as Minerva pushed her chair aside and Snape looked at the portrait of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, a much older Dumbledore than he remembered.

"I said it, Severus," Albus' portrait responded.

Snape blinked at him.

"But, you're a painting. You aren't real! This is an illusion," Snape sputtered.

Albus smiled.

"Parts of what you say is true, Severus, but only minutely so. This is magic we're dealing with here. I am not Albus Dumbledore in the flesh, so therefore, I am not 'real' in that sense, but I retain all of his knowledge, memories and experiences so I may advise those that follow me, as do the other portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses of this institution."

Albus swept his arm and Snape noticed the moving portraits hung all around the office, looking at him and whispering among themselves. He looked back at Dumbledore.

"I killed you," he hissed. "Why? Why did you make me do that? I was told it was some kind of plan—"

"So many questions, Severus. Are you so anxious to regain the guilt and pain that you lived with before this happened to you? Don't you see, my boy, that this can be a blessing?"

"How?" Snape snarled at him. "How can this be a blessing when everyone I cared about is dead? When I am completely alone? How can this be a blessing when my world is gone? Just—gone? It wasn't the best of worlds, but it was my world and I was comfortable in it."

"You've never been comfortable in any time or place, Severus—"

"Stop it! Stop acting as if you know me better than I know myself! You never had time for me! You let Potter and Black do anything they wanted to me! You never punished them! Never! Now I'm supposed to listen to you? How do I know anything you're saying is true?"

"You don't—yet you still ask questions of me," Albus said softly.

Snape stared at him with hate in his eyes.

"Severus, please—we're trying to help you—" Minerva pled with the boy. Snape spun on her.

"Help me? From what I know right now, I was the one who 'helped' in ways I suffered for. How did I become a spy? Especially for you, Headmaster? I didn't like you and felt nothing for you. My loyalty was to Tom Riddle—"

"Yes, it was. Until he killed Lily Potter," Dumbledore said softly.

Snape looked stricken for a moment, his eyes blinking rapidly as he once again faced the fact of Lily's death at the hands of the one man he trusted and believed in.

"Lily Evans!" he snarled. "Never Potter! Never! And I bet you took full advantage of it, too, didn't you? You used my grief to manipulate me into spying for you!"

Dumbledore's portrait blinked.

"You came to me for help before Lily was killed, Severus. You knew Tom intended to kill her. To kill her, James and their son, Harry."

Snape stared at him in disbelief.

"No! That isn't true. There's no way I would let Tom kill Lily. Not even talk about killing her!"

"He wasn't the same Tom Riddle, Severus. You saw to that. You create an elixir that nearly made him the most powerful wizard in existence, and he became a dictator, a despot, and you all feared him—you among them! You came to me, begging for protection for Lily—I agreed, in exchange for you giving me information on Voldemort and his Death Eaters—"

Snape's eyes widened.

"But—but if I did that and Lily still died, that means you didn't keep your word! You let her die!" Snape said with a sob.

"They put their trust in the wrong person, Severus—"

Snape stood there, his fists clenched, shaking, his head lowered as he glared at the floor. Slowly he looked up at Dumbledore, one hand slipping into his robes pocket. Minerva didn't see what he was doing.

"No," Snape said in a deceptively soft voice, "Lily didn't put her trust in the wrong person. I did! REDUCTO!"

Minerva let out a scream as Snape pulled out his wand and blasted Albus' portrait, blowing a hole straight through it, then bolted out of the office.

"Albus! Albus!" Minerva cried, running up to the portrait. Almost the entire picture was burned from the frame. "Oh, no! No!"

"My word."

Minerva spun to see Albus peeking out of another portrait, crowding its occupant.

"Is he gone?" the painting asked.

"Yes," Minerva said, plopping down in her chair and mopping her brow with the tissue Snape refused.

Albus' portrait straightened, fixing his skewed wizard's hat.

"He didn't take that very well, did he?"

"I should say not," Minerva replied. "The poor boy."

* * *

That poor boy was now stalking through the halls of Hogwarts, bumping into students and swearing under his breath, heading for the dungeons.

Damn him. Damn Dumbledore to hell! He was supposed to have protected Lily, and got him to spy in exchange for it and still let her die! Why didn't he kill Dumbledore for his treachery? Why hadn't he held him accountable? What kind of hell was his life before this accident that he let the wizard get away with breaking his word?"

He stormed down the dungeons toward his office, then stopped as he saw Hermione Granger standing in front of his door, a bulging knapsack thrown over her shoulder.

"Get out of here!" he hissed. "I've got a wand now. I can go where I need to without you!"

"I've come to help you find out about yourself," Hermione said to him.

"What if I don't want to know anymore about myself? I've learned enough to know I've been used and abused by both Dumbledore and Tom Riddle," he hissed at her. "Both of them betrayed me. Now I'm not so sorry I killed Dumbledore. He deserved it! He let Lily die!"

Hermione just looked at him, the fury and pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Snape stared at her.

"Just go away," he hissed, pushing her aside and opening the door to his office.

"You aren't the only one!" Hermione yelled at him suddenly.

Snape turned to her.

"What?"

"You aren't the only one who lost someone you loved. A lot of people have died within this past year, people I cared about and was close to as well! You aren't by yourself! We've all lost people because of Voldemort. Not just you! Buck up!"

Snape blinked at her, his face contorting.

"Buck up?" he said quietly.

"Yes! Buck up! You aren't going to bring anyone back ranting and treating people like dirt. You aren't going to regain your memories or your life. You've got to start over, just like the rest of us! We haven't lost our memories, but some of us—would like to. You've just got more to deal with, but you have to deal with it, professor. That's all you can do. You have to learn about yourself, who you were. You might feel it's about someone else, but at least you'll know. You're already at a disadvantage. Everyone you meet knows more about you than you know about yourself, and there's more to you than just Lily, Voldemort and Dumbledore, so much more."

Snape fixed her with a cold stare.

"And you care—why?" he asked her.

"I care because—because I know what you went through and you were—a selfless hero, professor—despite how badly you were treated. You didn't let it stop you from doing the right thing. And that means something."

Snape seemed to calm then, his eyes becoming less red and narrowed. He drew in a deep breath as if he had been starved for air. After a moment or two, he addressed the short witch before him.

"Stop calling me professor. My name is Severus. Use it. Everyone else does," he said.

"Severus," Hermione repeated, then fell silent.

Snape cocked his head at her.

"Did you ever have bucked teeth?" he asked her.

Hermione blinked at him.

"Why, do you remember me with bucked teeth?" she asked him in response, frowning slightly as she remembered how, when her teeth grew because Draco hit her with a Densaugeo spell, Snape had dismissed her elongated choppers, saying he didn't see any difference..

"No, I don't remember it. You just look like you should have bucked teeth. And—there's something else—"

Snape's eyes flicked over her consideringly.

"What?"

"For some reason, you annoy me."

Hermione scowled at him as Snape slowly opened the door wider.

"I don't know why I'm doing this, but come in."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	9. Throwing Down the Gauntlet

**Chapter 8 ~ Throwing Down the Gauntlet**

Hermione entered the Potions office, Snape closing the door behind her. She felt slightly uncomfortable as he looked at her, then walked over to a shelf and pulled out a book. The wall slid back and to the side, revealing an entrance.

"My quarters, for now," Snape said, walking in.

Hermione followed, looking at all the books and the sparse décor as Snape added wood to the dimming fire with his wand. Seeing the desk, Hermione walked over to it, pulled off her knapsack and began piling books on it. When she finished, she turned and nearly screamed because Snape was so close to her, he was nearly on top of her.

"I need an oath from you," he breathed at her.

"An oath?" Hermione said weakly as he invaded her personal space, his eyes narrowed.

"I told you what I was working on when this happened. You can't tell anyone what it was. No one," he hissed at her, so close now Hermione was slightly leaning back against the desk.

"I swear I won't tell anyone the potion you were working on," she said softly. Magic swirled around them, and Snape stepped back, satisfied. He looked at the books.

"I don't understand why you don't want anyone to know what you were working on. Someone might be able to make an antidote," Hermione said.

"They'd have to create an entirely new potion. There's a Shrinking potion that youthens living creatures other than humans, but there's no Enlarging potion that ages creatures, human or otherwise. Not many people are able to brew new potions. Most are adaptations of what's already in existence. I want to protect my interests. Perhaps one day I'll work on it again. Now, what are all these books and papers?"

"They contain information about you," Hermione said softly.

Snape looked at the pile then said, "I was told someone else has information about me. Harry Potter. I gave him my memories. I want to know why."

Hermione looked down at the floor.

"It's complicated," she said.

"I have excellent comprehension. Do you know why I gave him my memories?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"You were—you were dying," she said softly.

"What? Dying?" he repeated, his eyes going wide.

"You were dying and I think out of desperation you gave Harry your memories so he'd know what he had to do to defeat Voldemort, or Tom Riddle. You—didn't appear to have time to tell him—"

"Didn't—appear to have—wait, were you there? When I was dying, were you there?"

Hermione nodded.

"What happened to me? Why was I dying and how did I survive?"

Hermione explained that Voldemort had turned on him and had his snake bite him. When the despot left, Harry came to him and that was when he gave him the memories, and then they all left because it appeared he was dead.

"You—you didn't check to see if I was completely dead?" Snape asked in a low voice.

"You'd lost a lot of blood—and besides, we believed you were a traitor and a Death Eater. We had enough living Death Eaters to worry about. We weren't about to save one to add to their numbers—"

Snape's narrowed eyes rested on her.

"But I was Dumbledore's man," he hissed.

"You had killed him. We didn't know of the plan, then, Severus."

"So you all just left me on the floor of the Shrieking Shack in a pool of my own blood. That was to be my final reward."

"It appeared you earned it," Hermione replied, not about to take the blame for it.

Snape stared at her for a moment, then whirled and walked over to one of the armchairs near the fireplace and sat down, looking into the fire, the flickering light dancing over his features and catching his black eyes.

Hermione selected a book, picked it up and walked over, sitting in the armchair next to his. A small table rested between them.

Snape was silent for about fifteen minutes. Hermione didn't try to talk to him at all. She knew he was processing the information she'd given him. It had to be rather horrible to find out you'd been left for dead.

"So, that's how important I was," he said softly.

"No, no you were very important. We couldn't have done anything without your help," Hermione told him.

Snape turned his head to look at her.

"You wouldn't know that by the way you all left me in that shack," he hissed.

"Look. You need to know your story, Severus. Maybe it will make more sense if we start at the beginning."

"I want my memories back from Potter."

"They aren't complete memories. Most of them are about you and Lily—up to when you were no longer friends," Hermione said.

"I don't need those. I remember that. She—she wouldn't forgive me," he said softly, then his eyes hardened. "I need the memories of what happened after I graduated."

"It's mostly you and Dumbledore. Not much else."

"They're my memories and I want them back. I don't care how small."

Hermione frowned at him.

"They aren't going to help you, you know."

"Don't presume to know what will help me. You don't know it all. Just have Potter put them in a Pensieve for me."

Hermione frowned.

"I'm not your—your secretary. Go ask him yourself," Hermione said, irritated that he was trying to order her about like a peon.

"I don't want to talk to him. He looks too much like his father."

"You're going to have to get over that."

Snape's mouth worked a little as he looked at her. He really didn't want to deal with James' and Lily's son right now. Everything was too raw. But, he did want those memories.

"Hermione, please would you get those memories for me?" he asked her in a strained voice.

Hermione looked mutinous for a moment, but she knew that he really did need her help. So, like the soft-hearted witch she was, she capitulated. But not without a string or two.

"I will, but under one condition," the witch said as his face contorted. Conditions? What bloody conditions? Was everyone in his life manipulative?

"What is it?"

"I want you to find out as much as you can about yourself before viewing those memories. It might give you a more balanced outlook."

"Nothing seems the least bit balanced to me," he snarked, looking back at the fire.

Hermione didn't respond. She had told him the conditions. It was up to him whether or not to accept them.

"Fine," he spat.

"Good. Now, here's the 1978 yearbook," she said opening it up and turning the page to where his sour-faced photo was. Instead of posing for the camera, it appeared he just stared at it, with little motion at all. Everyone else was winking, smiling and grinning.

"Let me see that," he said, taking the book out of her hands and looking at his picture. He looked just as he did now. He read the information under his photo.

"I made the highest NEWT marks in the school that year," he said smugly. "I even beat out the Ravenclaws."

Hermione's eyes immediately narrowed. Highest marks? That was HER territory.

"Are you going to be taking the NEWTS again?" she asked him lightly.

He nodded.

"I studied for them, so, yes, I'm taking them," he replied.

"Oh. Well, I wish you luck. The curriculum has changed since you've been in school. I imagine your knowledge is a bit—outdated."

Snape scowled at her.

"What are you talking about? The NEWTS test your skills," he snarled at her

"They test your academic knowledge as well. Since you're eighteen again and don't have your memories, you don't know all the new data. Besides, I make the highest marks in the school. I have since my first year."

Snape frowned at her.

"A Gryffindor make the highest marks? That's ridiculous. Everyone knows Gryffindors are long on brawn and short on brains."

"Do I look brawny to you?" Hermione snapped at him.

No. Hermione was about as unbrawny as they came.

"Well, you're not smarter than me," he replied.

"You don't know that. Most likely my marks will top yours with points to spare," Hermione hissed back at him, her hackles up now.

Snape considered. Hermione did have an edge because she did know about the advances made in magic over the years. He didn't.

"What month is it?" he asked her.

"Late March."

Snape gave her a little smirk.

"I have more than enough time to bone up on the latest developments for the NEWTS," he told her. "All I need are the proper study aids. Don't polish off that pedestal yet, Hermione Granger. You have competition."

This was precisely what Snape needed. Something to focus on, to work toward. Outdoing a know-it-all Gryffindor would be very satisfying. He still didn't like the house and the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was very much alive. Without the Marauders to harass him, he'd be able to move around the castle freely and do what he needed to get done without interruption or fear of attack. His marks might have been even higher his last year if not for Potter and Black.

It wouldn't be that way this time.

"I don't mind competition. I just hope you aren't too disappointed when you place second, or third or maybe even tenth in class," Hermione replied, her eyes narrowed. "There are others who are smart, too."

"We'll see," Snape said, intending on looking up Hermione's potions marks as soon as she left. It was always wise to know one's opponent's strengths and weaknesses.

Snape and Hermione glared at each other for a few moments, then Hermione went and retrieved another book. She plunked it down on the table with a bit of attitude.

"This is this year's version of Hogwarts, a History. It tells about the final battle against Lord Voldemort and has a lot of information about you in there. You should start with that, then we can go backwards a bit. This will just give you the bigger picture of where you were before the accident. Details can be filled in later. Start with when you were hired at Hogwarts."

Snape picked up the book and looked at Hermione with furrowed brows.

"You are extremely bossy," he observed.

Hermione pushed her bushy hair back.

"No, I'm not bossy. I just know what needs to be done and tell people. It makes it so much easier than waiting for them to figure it out for themselves."

Snape snorted.

"Like I said. Bossy."

* * *

Hermione left Snape two hours later to meet Ron and Harry by the lake for yet another grueling study lesson. Ron hated it. These lessons just ate up the weekends. But at least they got in a bit of flying. They now waited for her, books piled on the boulders, ink and quills beside them. Ginny had skived off, and was in the Gryffindor common room playing wizarding chess.

"I'll be glad when the NEWTS have come and gone," Ron muttered. "My brain feels as if it's going to burst, and Hermione is still stuffing stuff inside it."

Harry grinned.

"Oh, come on, Ron. She just wants us to do well. If we do poorly, then she's going to feel that it's a direct reflection on her. She's smart, so she wants us to be smart, too."

"Nobody's as smart as Hermione, Harry. She was born with a fully developed brain. Maybe even two brains," he replied as Hermione walked up and smiled at them.

"Ready for another rousing session of Learning?" she asked the wizards brightly.

"Hoo-rah!" Ron muttered as she instructed them to open their Advanced Herbology books.

"That's the spirit, Ron," she said with a smile.

* * *

Severus sat at the desk in the office, behind a securely warded door, leafing through Hermione's marks. He felt a bit better.

After Hermione left, Headmistress McGonagall contacted him by Floo and assured him everything was all right and she understood why he was so upset. She also informed him Albus' portrait hadn't been destroyed. He wasn't so pleased about that.

Next time he'd have to take better aim.

She told him to just try and relax for the rest of the day and not to worry about anything. Like he could really do that. But snooping through Hermione's records was an interesting way to burn a few hours.

Hm.

She did make decent marks in potions, although after reading a couple of her essays, he thought she had scored a bit low. He knew good essays when he read them. Then he saw the few detentions she'd received. Most of them were for challenging her marks. Oh, so that's how it was. Apparently he gave her low marks on purpose. Probably to boost Slytherin a bit. Or maybe even because he didn't like her when he was a teacher.

He found a few evaluations, then was sure he didn't like her.

"Loud. Obnoxious. Fact-spouting. Does not follow directions properly. Gives two feet of parchment when only one is necessary. Questions everything. An extremely annoying student that needs to close her mouth and open her ears," pronounced one evaluation.

Did he actually send this to her parents?

Snape began to wonder what kind of teacher he was. He had never imagined himself as a teacher, and certainly had no aspirations to be one while he attended Hogwarts. Had he been kind and patient with his pupils?

Somehow, he doubted it. Still, he'd like to see himself in action in a classroom setting. The next time he saw Hermione he'd ask if he could view her memories of him as a professor.

He was sure it would be quite interesting.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	10. Something Very Unexpected

**Chapter 9 ~ Something Very Unexpected**

"Merlin's knobblies! What's wrong with her?" Snape exclaimed to himself as he read Hermione's biography in "Hogwarts, a History."

He'd heard of over-achieving before, but Hermione Granger must either be barking mad, or desperately trying cover up some shortcoming. She had earned eleven OWLS in her fifth year, receiving "Outstanding" marks in Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and one other class, and an "Exceeds Expectations" in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now, according to the textbook, she was taking Advanced classes in every single one of those classes.

No one got eleven OWLS then attempted to take NEWTS on all of them! Where did she find the time? And didn't she have a boyfriend?

He must not get much attention, that's for sure.

Snape blinked down at her marks, several of them over the one hundred percentile. One mark was 312%! How the HELL had she managed that?

Snape was no slouch academically. He had done quite well in his OWLS during his fifth year, gaining "Outstandings" in Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Herbology. He also received an "Exceeding Expectations" in Transfiguration. He dropped Transfiguration for Advanced Herbology. He was aspiring to become a Potions master at the time and the ability to grow ingredients was very important to the art. Four study-intensive classes were enough as far as he was concerned.

The wizard scowled.

Shit, he was beaten before he even got started Although he could give Hermione some competition in his four subjects, she was bound to beat him out just by the sheer volume of her studies.

Snape had thought he was dealing with a normal brainy student, not someone who insanely took several difficult, advanced courses at once. The term "Overachiever" didn't begin to describe Hermione Granger.

What drove someone to work so hard? Obsession?

Snape knew what obsession was. How persistent, how uncontrollable it was, how it took over every thought, every emotion—how it couldn't be stopped, no matter how miserable it made you feel. At least, that had been his experience.

Snape had been obsessed by Lily, but separation had dulled it and eventually he stopped lurking about trying to waylay her. There had been several confrontations with James before he went underground. It became less painful seeing her, but he still had loved her and wanted to steal her away from James. Still, if he didn't actually think about her lying in the cold earth, he could feel as if she were just avoiding him like she usually did. He decided not to consciously think about her too much. His situation was so different now, it could be possible to keep her out of his head. As he leafed through the textbook, he saw many, many people had died under Voldemort.

He knew Tom by that name, but the wizard had given him special permission to call him "Tom" because he wanted Snape to feel important to him since he hadn't yet taken the mark. All that really was important to the wizard was that the boy produced the elixir he needed. Because of this familiarity, Snape was envied by the other Death Eaters, who all had to call Voldemort "Lord." Snape had never been envied by anyone, so it had been quite heady for him to be able to address the Dark Lord in that manner. Of course, it didn't last after Voldemort got what he wanted and Snape became a true Death Eater. Snape had no memory of it, however.

Tom killed Lily. Voldemort killed Lily.

The unbidden thought filled his head again, dark, painful, the sense of betrayal wrapping around him like a thick blanket, so tight he felt it hard to breathe.

"Stop it!" he hissed to himself as Lily's ghost tried to rise in his mind. "I won't think of it! I won't!"

Snape declared this out loud several times. It was difficult to think while speaking and eventually he pushed the thought of Lily down in his mind. He returned to the textbook, now reading about Harry Potter.

He was orphaned as a baby and raised by Petunia and her husband, who hid the fact he was a wizard from him for years. They used to keep him in a cupboard under the stairs.

Snape frowned at this. He always knew Petunia had a cruel streak because of the way she treated Lily sometimes, but to lock her sister's only child under the stairs?

He read on. Harry was famous because he survived Voldemort's curse and had a scar on his forehead from it. His mother's love formed a protection for him, but no one knew that for years. Snape didn't remember that Dumbledore knew. Good thing too, or he might have taken another go at him.

He read about all the adventures and close calls Harry had. He certainly didn't lead the same charmed life as his father, that was for certain. Ronald Weasley and Hermione had stuck with him through it all, although it appeared Weasley had second thoughts for a moment.

Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange? He remembered Bellatrix. She was beautiful, but a zealot for Voldemort. She'd do anything he asked, anything, no matter how deviant. Tom would talk about what he did to her sexually, and Snape would listen in wonder, excited but disturbed at the same time.

"If you dominate a witch sexually, she'll practically be your slave, Severus. Whenever you get your hands on Lily, treat her like a whore and she'll love you for it," Voldemort advised him. "Be merciless when you fuck her, and you'll wipe James Potter right out of her head."

"But—Lily's strong—" the boy had said to him. "She wouldn't take well to me trying to dominate her."

Voldemort smiled.

"Those are the kind of women who like it best, believe me," he assured Snape.

But, Snape never got the chance to find out.

He turned the book back to the chapter about him. There was a short list of spells attributed to him that were used throughout the wizarding world today.

"All stolen," he hissed as he read through them. Yes, those were his spells all right. Levicorpus, Sectumsempra, Muffliato, and Langlock.

Some of his potions innovations were listed as well. Other than credit, he'd received nothing for their use, and that hardly seemed fair. Techniques were marketable. Potions masters only gave away their secrets for a price and an oath of secrecy. Maybe it had something to do with his being a student at the time. One thing was for certain, someone had gotten hold of his Advanced Potions book, again.

He took a moment to order supper, then returned to Hermione's chapter. She was quite accomplished. To think with her obviously busy schedule, she'd taken out the time to try and help him.

She must be mad. Still, she could be very useful and had promised to stop by after supper. He had told her it wasn't necessary, but he knew the type. Gryffindors were a law unto themselves, and only followed rules when it suited them. She'd be at his door with bells on, despite his wishes. Annoying as that was, he'd take advantage of it.

* * *

"I don't like the idea of you going to Snape's quarters alone, Hermione," Ron complained as he walked her down the dungeon corridor towards Snape's office. Hermione had bolted through her food, and Ron insisted on walking her to the dungeons, which pissed him off because he hadn't eaten as much as he wanted.

"What do you think is going to happen, Ron? He's mourning Lily and I'm sure I'm not his type. I'm just helping him adjust," she told him irritably. "I find him fascinating. What must it be like to suddenly be young again?"

"Fascinating? Hermione, he's like anybody else our age. There's nothing fascinating about him. What happened is a little interesting, but he's not."

"I can't believe you're so jealous," she said to him.

Ron pouted.

"Well, you hardly have enough time for me as it is with the upcoming NEWTS and all the studying you have to do. So naturally I'm mad that what free time you have, you're spending with Snape. I'm not trying to be a git on purpose, Hermione. I just can't help how I feel," he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pocket.

Hermione stopped walking. They were a little distance from the Potions office. Neither of them saw the door crack just a little, or the black eyes watching them.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said softly. "Once we graduate, we'll have plenty of time together. I promise. I just think it's important to help the professor. He helped all of us so much. Don't be mad."

Hermione reached up and pulled Ron down into a soft, rare, public kiss. There was no one else in the corridor, so she felt comfortable enough to do it. Ron wrapped his arms around her and drank in the softness of her mouth. Gods, they didn't do this enough to suit him, but the effect on him was practically magical as she pulled away from his mouth.

"Oi, Hermione," he breathed down at her, his blue eyes heated. She smiled back at him.

"I don't know how the rules work at Hogwarts now, but kissing in the corridors was considered bad form and usually resulted in point loss when I attended," a cold voice said. "Obviously, the standards at this school have gone the way of the Dodo."

Witch and wizard quickly oriented on the voice, Hermione blushing furiously as Ron scowled at Snape. The youthened wizard was leaning against the damp wall outside of his office door with a sneer on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with the standards," Ron growled at him as he released a very embarrassed Hermione.

"Maybe not the school's standards—"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Ron, let it go," Hermione said softly. "We shouldn't have been kissing in public anyway. I broke my own rule."

Ron and Snape looked at each other with narrowed eyes. It didn't help that Snape now wore a slight smirk.

"Ron? Ron."

Ron looked down at Hermione, but the scowl didn't leave his face.

"How long do you intend to stay with that git?" he asked her in a low voice.

Snape still heard him, and almost grinned.

"I'll be back before curfew, Ron. Just think of it like my tutoring of other students. You don't seem to mind that," she said to him.

"Yes, but those are students. This is Snape," he replied.

"It's no different, Ron. Really. Now, just go and I'll see you in the common room in an hour or two," she said soothingly.

Ron watched as Hermione walked toward Snape, whose dark eyes rested on her. She walked past him and into his office. He straightened, then waggled his eyebrows at Ron, and walked in behind her, closing the door hard.

Ron stood there with his fists clenched, struggling not to run to the office door and pound it down. Hermione wouldn't appreciate that a bit. She always assumed he didn't trust her.

It wasn't her. It was wizards in general. He thought Hermione was beautiful even if no one else saw her the way he did. But he assumed they did see it, and so was protective. He didn't want her stolen away.

He knew Hermione was a proper witch, with good ethics and of good character. He didn't have to worry about her doing anything untoward, particularly with Snape.

But those waggling eyebrows didn't help his attitude a bit.

* * *

"Legilimens!" Snape hissed, entering Hermione's mind. She'd agreed to let him see how he was as a professor.

"It isn't pretty," she warned him.

And it wasn't. Potter didn't stand a chance in his class from the first day, and it was clear he hated him just as much as he hated James. He was dismissive of Hermione, too, calling her a know-it-all and telling her to constantly be quiet. He seemed to take an unholy joy in tormenting a Gryffindor named Neville—

He watched as he bullied, mistreated and embarrassed students constantly. There always seemed to be some kind of chip on his shoulder. He treated the Slytherins better than anyone else, but even they caught it sometimes.

What? Sirius Black? In the Shrieking Shack? Him and Remus Lupin, he had his wand on them, then he was blasted away! Then, he was blocking Hermione, Ron and Harry from a werewolf bearing down on them. What?

There were other startling images, most of them with him being a total git, rapping Ron and Harry in their heads with books, taking away points from them for no apparent reason, but some of the images had him seeming almost protective, in a snarky way.

Then, he saw himself covered in a magical orb and bitten by Nagini on the order of Voldemort who left him gushing blood on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Then silver fluid poured from his face and Harry collected it in a bottle. Then he appeared to die, his body being walked away from.

Then he saw himself with a bandage around his throat, caked blood on his robes, pale and drawn as several people helped him through the castle to the infirmary. There were injured everywhere. Then, there was him in the Potions classroom, alone with Hermione, who walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him downward—

Suddenly, Hermione slammed down her Occlumency walls, forcing him out of her head.

Snape blinked at her in shock.

"What the hell was that last part?" he demanded.

"What last part?" she asked him, her face red.

"That last part! Were you kissing me?"

"No!"

"You were!"

"No! I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were! What are you? Some kind of—of Lolita? I can't believe this! I had to be twice your age! What's wrong with you!"

Hermione grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

"I'm leaving," she said, walking toward the entrance.

Snape ran past her, blocking the way out, his eyes narrowed.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what that was I witnessed," he said in a low, hard voice.

Hermione blinked at him before she sighed, turned around and walked over to the sofa. She sat down, looking at the floor.

Snape walked over to her and stood with his arms tightly folded.

"Now, you tell me what's going on, right now," he demanded.

* * *

A/N: I've been busy trying to fix my website, theburningpen . com. I am putting up cgi review boards. The problem was, I knew nothing about cgi. Now, I know a little and have a couple of working boards up. I'm going to have to work on it bit by bit, I have so many stories, so please bear with me. The newest stories have working boards now, thank goodness, so I'm getting someplace. I had relied on an automated process to generate the boards, but the Frontpage extensions are being phased out, so . . . I'm on my own. I think it will be all right. Anyway, that's what I've been up to and why there weren't updates. But, thanks for reading.


	11. Blast You, Snape!

**Chapter 10 ~ Blast You, Snape!**

"Well?"

Hermione looked up at him with a frown.

"I can't believe that after all you've seen about yourself, that's the only thing you're interested in," she said to him angrily.

"Well, you didn't eject me out of your head when I was viewing everything else," he retorted. "I want to know why you were kissing me. Were we involved?"

"No, we weren't involved. All you saw was a little schoolgirl crush. A fantasy that accidentally slipped through. They're perfectly natural," Hermione replied. "Nothing happened between us ever! You were just as snarky and mean-tempered toward me as anyone. Maybe even more so because I was one of the people who left you for dead."

Snape studied her.

"Oh, there's definitely something wrong with you," he said, shaking his head. "A crush? After all I saw about me? How could anyone have a crush on someone who was so nasty most of the time?"

"At least you admit that. That you were nasty."

Snape drew himself up indignantly.

"No, you all thought I was nasty. There had to be a reason I acted as I did. I probably wanted to keep all of you away from me for some reason, or hating me. Maybe because I was a spy. And my classroom seemed to have been filled with dunderheads and that's dangerous. That Neville wizard didn't even belong in a potions classroom!"

Hermione looked at him incredulously. He was justifying himself? Well, she'd been guilty of justifying his actions to Ron and Harry, but it just sounded so—so pompous coming from him.

"He did belong. Your job was to teach him!" Hermione said, defending Neville.

"My job was to keep him alive. Even I can see that. And I saw you, too, whispering in his ear while you both were brewing. So, you helped him cheat! No wonder I treated you the way I did. You could have gotten him killed by not letting him learn on his own."

"You wanted to fail him! That's why I helped him!" Hermione shot back at him, incensed ever though this happened years ago.

"He probably deserved to fail. No one who isn't adept at brewing should be brewing! That's just common sense. It's hard to believe with all your OWLS and marks that you're so—so stupid!"

Now Hermione jumped up off the sofa. Stupid? No one called her stupid. Not even Snape. Particularly a Snape her age.

"You know something, professor—" she snarled.

"That's Severus. Can you follow a simple instruction? I said to call me Severus several times—"

"I think bloody bastard is a better name for you! For all these years I thought the reason you were such a git to people was because of all you'd gone through, but it's not true. You're just an arse! Period."

Snape smirked at her.

"An arse you wanted to lift your robes for, apparently," he purred at her.

Hermione turned red as fire, and before she knew what she was doing, whipped out her wand. Snape pulled his out as soon as he saw her go for hers, but she got the drop on him.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione snarled, blasting Snape across the room and into the bookshelves. He slid down the wall, unconscious.

Hermione grabbed her knapsack, slung it over her shoulder, then walked over and looked down at the unconscious wizard.

"You can bet your broomstick that wasn't the first time I've used that hex on you," she hissed at him. "But this time, I enjoyed doing it!"

And, she left.

* * *

"Wow, that didn't take long at all, Hermione," Ron said as she stormed into the common room. He was playing a game of wizard's chess with Dean Thomas and soundly trouncing him. "What did you two do?"

Hermione sighed.

"Well, he wanted to know what kind of teacher he was, so I let him use Legilimency on me to see," Hermione said.

"How did he take being such a git?" Dean Thomas asked curiously as other students gathered around, listening.

"He believes there was a reason for him being that way," Hermione said. "He tried to justify it."

Ron snorted.

"There's a reason for it, all right. He was born nasty."

Hermione nodded.

"I couldn't agree more," she replied.

Both of Ron's eyebrows rose. Hermione had spent so much time trying to prove to them that Snape was just a misunderstood, but noble human being, that such a statement was definitely out of character for her. What had happened down in the dungeons that made her change her opinion of him?

Harry and Ginny entered the common room, hand in hand. They'd been walking around the castle together. They saw the students clustered around Hermione and walked up.

"Hi," Harry said, looking curious. "What's going on?"

"The castle is going to come crumbling down, Harry," Ron replied, standing up and looking at Hermione suspiciously. "Hermione just admitted Snape was born a git."

Harry's eyes went wide behind his glasses.

"What? Hermione said that?"

"Well, I said it, like I usually do, but this time—she agreed with me."

Harry studied Hermione, who reddened slightly.

"Something's rotten in Hogwarts," he said. "What gives Hermione?"

'I just realized that he's just a nasty individual. He's eighteen and he hasn't been through anything yet to make him act like such an idiot," she replied with a frown.

Harry looked thoughtful.

"But, he has, Hermione. He might not be a spy yet, but my father—and the Marauders made his life miserable. If someone is constantly targeted and picked on, you know it makes him—well, bitter and anti-social."

Hermione blinked at Harry. She'd forgotten that. This Snape was the Snape of those awful memories, the ostracized, strange, targeted and brilliant young wizard who walked the hall of Hogwarts and associated with aspiring Death Eaters. Not to mention Tom Riddle himself. This was the wizard bitter about his best friend, his one love running off with his nemesis, James Potter. Lily had to have broken his heart. This was a young man who lived with his pain every day in very real ways.

And this was a young man whose entire world had just vanished, who was trying to put the pieces back together. His treatment of her seemed ungrateful, was ungrateful really, but considering his situation, she really could have been more understanding. Calling him an arse was suitable, because he was acting like one, but she didn't have to blast him when he called her on her crush. But what he said was so—so dirty. He deserved what happened. The hex had been the equivalent of slapping him after all, but with magic.

Almost the equivalent. A slap wouldn't have knocked him unconscious.

"You're right, Harry," she admitted as Ron groaned, the other students chuckling.

"Damn it, Harry. I finally had her twisted around to my way of thinking and you go and ruin it with logic," he griped as Harry grinned at him. "I suppose this means you're going to continue to try and help him, Hermione."

Hermione looked at Ron a bit guiltily.

"I don't know, Ron. After tonight, he might not want my help anymore," she said to him. "I'm just going to leave him alone for a while."

Ron's brows furrowed. Hermione never backed away from "a project." Snape definitely fell into that category. Something had to have happened.

"Hermione, something went wrong, didn't it?" he asked her.

Hermione didn't reply to his question. All she said was she was going up to her room to study and left the common room abruptly.

Ron looked at Harry with a frown.

"Something happened, and if Hermione won't tell me what, then Snape will," he said in a low voice, then he exited the common room.

"Go with him, Harry," Ginny said to the wizard.

Harry nodded, kissed Ginny on the cheek and followed Ron.

* * *

Snape groggily got up off the floor, rubbing the back of his head. It was throbbing.

"She hexed me!" he hissed.

No witch had ever hexed him before except Lily. Angry at being out-hexed and wanting a chance to get back a little of his own, Snape left his quarters, planning to go to Gryffindor tower itself in search of Hermione if he had to do it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd tracked down a Gryffindor witch.

Draco Malfoy was walking down the dungeon corridor when Snape emerged, his pale face contorted and murder in his eyes.

"Hello, professor," the blond wizard ventured.

"My name is Severus, you dolt! Now, get out of my way," Snape snarled, pushing by him.

Normally, this insult would have Draco's wand out in a second, but he had no idea how to handle this situation. He was angry at the treatment however, and stalked down to the Slytherin entrance. He was going to find out Snape's status. Was he still a teacher, or was he a student again? If he was a student, then—he'd be treated the way he treated others, hero or not.

Bastard.

* * *

Snape had just started up the marble stairwell when both Harry and Ron walked out of the first floor corridor. All three of them stopped simultaneously, Snape frowning at Ron. He was the boyfriend. He didn't give Harry a second look.

"Professor, I want to talk to you," Ron said firmly.

Snape sighed.

"I am NOT a professor. Just call me Snape," he responded. "What is it?"

Ron wasn't sure how to present his question, now that he was face to face with Snape. It was very disconcerting to know this was the same wizard that had given him so much grief throughout school among other things.

"Listen, when Hermione started helping you, she did it because she's always believed that you were worth it and used to say you weren't really a nasty bastard. She argued with me all the time about it, really. She just said you had a lot to deal with. But tonight she came back to the common room with a different opinion about you. She said you were born a git. I want to know what happened to change her opinion about you?"

Snape blinked up at Ron and Harry. Ron wasn't going to let him just hex his girlfriend, that was for certain. Maybe—maybe there was another way to get Hermione back.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked Ron with a bit of a sneer in his voice that made Harry quite nervous. Had Snape tried to do something to Hermione? If he had, hexes would fly. Ron would never stand for that.

"Yeah, I do," Ron said, his face set like stone. He was thinking the same thing Harry was.

"Well, your girlfriend let me use Legilimency to see how I was as a teacher," Snape began.

"Oh, that had to be an eye-opener," Ron muttered.

Snape frowned at him.

"Oh, it was—particularly when your girlfriend walked up to me in the Potions classroom and kissed me. I was twice her age," he said softly, but his voice was dripping venom.

Ron went pale.

"What?" he wheezed.

"You heard me."

"That's—that's not true," Ron hissed at him.

"Ask her, then," Snape told him. "Gryffindors are supposed to be abnormally honest, which is a lie by the way, but you can try and find out the truth, I suppose."

Ron and Harry simply stared at Snape, who looked back at them for a moment, then whirled, starting back down the stairs. His work was done here. This was much better than hexing Hermione. Much better.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward Ron and Harry, both of whom were still frozen.

"It has to be hard to find out your girlfriend wet her knickers for a teacher that was such a bastard to all of you," he said. "Something's wrong with her."

"You shut-up!" Ron roared down at him, going for his wand, but Harry clutched his hand so he couldn't pull it out.

Snape gave a nasty chuckle and headed back toward the dungeons.

Ron was trembling with rage.

"Come on, Ron," Harry said to his mate. "Don't let him get to you."

Ron turned red-rimmed eyes on Harry.

"I need to talk to Hermione. Now."

* * *

Snape was walking back down the corridor when he saw someone standing outside his office door. It was a full grown wizard in rich blue robes. He had long blonde hair and a silver tipped cane in his hand.

Lucius Malfoy couldn't believe it when Draco sent him an owl telling him Severus Snape had been in some kind of potions accident and was a youth again. He had to see it for himself.

Snape walked up to him and they stared at each other. He recognized Lucius, but he was much older. Still a handsome wizard, however. He had always been disgustingly handsome.

"I—I can't believe it," Lucius said softly, catching hold of Snape's chin and twisting his head this way and that before Snape jerked away, his eyes narrowed. "It's just as Draco said. This—this is amazing."

Snape didn't say anything, but he didn't like being studied by Lucius like some kind of oddity.

"You know who I am, don't you?" Lucius said to the boy.

"Lucius Malfoy," Snape replied tersely.

"Yes. Your old housemate and former brother when we were both in the service of the Dark Lord," the wizard said softly. "But you don't remember that, do you? Your dual service to the Order and to Voldemort?"

Snape shook his head.

Lucius' gray eyes drifted over him.

"Truly amazing," he said again. "I think we need to talk, Severus. You're in a very difficult situation, and to be honest, I owe you a debt for saving my son, Draco."

"Draco?" Snape repeated.

"Ah, you don't remember that either," Lucius responded. "I'm sure you know you killed Albus Dumbledore—but my son Draco was supposed to do it. You did instead, keeping his soul from being fragmented and making it so he wasn't a murderer. You took an Unbreakable Vow to protect him, and did so admirably and to your own detriment."

Snape blinked at him. An Unbreakable Vow? Why would he do such a thing? Unbreakable Vows would kill if not fulfilled. Why would he risk himself? Snape began to think his older self wasn't wrapped too tightly.

"What?" he said, the single word containing a million unspoken questions.

Lucius gave him a smile.

"Give me a few moments of your time, Severus. I want to help you, and I am in the position to do so. You are young and alone in the world now. You have to make your way through it again. Voldemort isn't here to sponsor your continued work in potions after graduation—"

Lucius paused as Snape continued to stare at him.

"But, I am."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	12. Coming to Terms

**Chapter 11 ~ Coming to Terms**

Parvati Patil knocked on Hermione's door. Hermione was up to her neck in multiple parchments and scowled as she heard the knock, not looking up.

"I'm studying!" she called.

"Ron wants to see you, Hermione," Parvati said through the door.  
"I'm studying," Hermione said again, irritated.

"But, he really wants to see you, Hermione. He seems upset."

Hermione sighed. What was there for Ron to be upset about? She was just down there with him. Well, whatever it was, it could wait until tomorrow. She had to get these three essays done tonight. They were due in two days.

"Tell Ron he can talk to me tomorrow before class, Parvati. I'm really busy," she called.

Parvati frowned, and left.

Ron was standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. Parvati walked down them alone.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but she said she's really busy and will talk to you tomorrow," the witch said apologetically.

"Great. Just great. So I'm going to have to wonder about this the whole night," Ron muttered. "I hate when she does this."

Harry looked sympathetic.

"Ron, you know how she is about her studies. She helps us out, but at night she really focuses on her own work. She's taking eleven NEWTS, Ron. Eleven. That has to be some kind of record," Harry said.

"I don't know why she works so hard, Harry. Everyone knows she's brilliant. It's insane the amount of work she does," Ron said angrily. "She doesn't have to know everything about everything."

"That's just Hermione, Ron. She's always been that way and you know that. She's not going to change. And if she wasn't the way she is, probably neither of us would even be here," Harry told him as they both walked up the stairs to their room.

"It's just that it seems studying and getting perfect marks is more important to Hermione than I am," Ron complained, sitting down on his bed and pulling off his trainers. "She didn't even bother to come down and see what I wanted. It's things like that I don't like."

"If she knew what Snape had told you, she would have come right down, Ron, I'm sure of it," Harry said to him as he removed his glasses and pulled his shirt over his head. Silence fell as they both stripped down to their boxers and lay down in their beds. Harry took a Snitch out of a box on his nightstand and practiced making grabs at it as it hovered over his bed, dipping and dodging but not flying away. Ron lay on his stomach, his chin on his folded arms as he glowered.

"Do you think Hermione actually kissed Snape when he was a teacher, Harry?" he asked his friend.

Harry played with the Snitch idly, his brow furrowing.

"I don't know, Ron, but if she did, I'm sure it wasn't anything—er—sexual. Maybe a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek or something. Snape didn't say what kind of kiss it was. He might have been purposely trying to make you mad and get the attention off of him."

"Sexual," Ron hissed. "I hope not. How could anyone be attracted to Snape? Sure, he did a lot but he was an ugly bloke. He still is, really. There's just no other way to put it, Harry. And his personality doesn't help a bit. No, Hermione couldn't have been attracted to him like that. It was probably just what you said. Something innocent, if it happened at all. I mean, people kiss their pets all the time, don't they?"

Harry didn't say anything, but he thought that ugly as he was, Snape could still appeal to Hermione because he was a hero and he was brilliant. Plus, Hermione always got wood for anyone or thing that seemed damaged or an underdog. But, he wisely didn't say anything to Ron about it. He had enough on his mind. Harry would be completely squicked if he found out Ginny kissed Snape in any manner, innocent or not.

"Still, I wish Hermione had come down to talk to me," Ron said wistfully. "It's not easy playing second to a bunch of books and parchments. There's no way to compete with them, Harry."

"Hermione's going to be out of school soon, Ron, then you'll have all of her attention. You just have to be patient," Harry told him.

Ron sighed.

"Yeah, that's what Hermione says, too. But Harry, what if she takes some high-powered job that takes up all her time, or worse, two or three jobs so she'll feel challenged? I'm not sure it's going to stop here, Harry. She's been overachieving ever since she arrived at Hogwarts. Do you think she's going to just stop because she graduates? It might even be worse."

Harry thought it was quite possible Hermione might take up multiple careers. He caught the Snitch and looked over at Ron.

"What if she does decide to do that, Ron?" he asked him.

Ron blinked several times.

"I don't know, Harry. I mean, I'm crazy about Hermione and I'm willing to wait for her complete attention—I know learning is important to her as breathing, but I don't know if I'm willing to play second to her job or jobs. I mean, it has to stop somewhere, doesn't it? I want to marry her, you know."

"Does Hermione know that, Ron?"

Ron shook his head.

"I haven't told her, but she should suspect it, shouldn't she? Aren't witches supposed to know these things?"

"Ordinary witches, maybe. I don't know about Hermione. She doesn't seem to think much about marriage as much as the others. I've never heard her talk about it. Even Ginny talks about it."

Harry shuddered a little. He loved Ginny, but there was something about the "M" word that made him want to hop on his Firebolt and fly away extremely fast.

Ron grunted. No, Hermione wasn't at all like other witches. She stayed to herself mostly, or with him and Harry. She studied insanely and when she did deal with other students, it was usually in the capacity of a tutor, not a social situation. If she wasn't sitting with either him or Harry, she was sitting by herself with books and parchments for company. Hermione really was a bit of an odd duck when you thought about it.

"Maybe I should tell her, Harry. Just so she knows how serious I am about her," Ron mused.

"Maybe."

"Yeah. I'll do that. Right after I find out what Snape was talking about," the redhead said with a yawn.

"Just make sure Ginny doesn't hear about it. She has a year to go, and I don't want all that pressure," Harry said warningly.

"Right," Ron said softly, drifting off to sleep as Harry continued playing with the Snitch.

But, he hoped Snape had been lying, or if he wasn't, there was a good explanation.

* * *

Snape watched as Lucius removed his cloak, hung it up on the rack and rested his cane against the wall. The pureblood then walked over to the liquor cabinet and fixed himself a Firewhiskey. He turned to Snape, holding up the glass.

"Join me?" he asked.

Snape shook his head, frowning slightly as Lucius walked over and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. Snape slowly joined him. He looked displeased. Lucius quirked an eyebrow at the sullen wizard.

"I must apologize, Severus. You didn't realize I am quite familiar with your rather spare quarters. I visited you quite often over the years," he said, whisking the Firewhiskey around in his glass before taking a sip of it, then setting it down on the small table between the chairs.

Snape didn't say anything. He just looked at Lucius.

"You've always been one not to speak unless you had something to say, Severus," Lucius said to him with a slight smirk. "You always listened so carefully. I should have suspected you were a spy. It was lucky for me and mine that you were or our lives would have been much different."

"How?"

"Most likely my only heir would be locked up in Azkaban for the rest of his life," Lucius replied. "Or he could have been killed by vengeful Order members or anyone who felt loyalty towards Dumbledore, and there were many—including you, it seems."

Snape frowned. He felt absolutely no loyalty towards Dumbledore. The old wizard had failed him and used him. He still wasn't sure how that occurred. Perhaps when he got his memories from Harry it would become clearer.

Still, he didn't reply.

"Well, let's get down to the bare bones of it, shall we? The situation is this, Severus, at the age of eighteen you were already brilliant with potions, which is why you got Voldemort's attentions and was so favored by him. You are that lad again, and have a brilliant career in front of you without the onus of being under the Dark Lord's thumb."

Snape just blinked at him.

"I am in your debt, but I'm sure you know that this is not exactly a kindness. I am a Slytherin after all, and a true Slytherin does not give something for nothing. I am willing to make an investment in you because I know that you will do something extraordinary. In your case, I have no doubt lightning will strike twice if you have—opportunities. What I am proposing is that I become your patron. I will provide you with a place to live, board, a lab, ingredients, and whatever you need to develop your skills and new potions. I will recoup my investments whenever you develop something marketable, but you will retain the rights, so will receive residuals for your work once it is marketed and I am repaid."

"So, I won't get anything at first," Snape said coldly.

Lucius blinked at him.

"You will be cared for, have all your needs provided for. That's hardly nothing, Severus."

"I don't like it," the boy said. "There should be some kind of limit on how much you recoup at once. Otherwise, it'll be as if I'm a slave for you."

Lucius' handsome face contorted at this statement.

"When you worked for Voldemort, he gave you little more than praise," Lucius hissed at him angrily.

"But I won't be working for Voldemort, will I? This is completely different and I should at least get money for my work. I won't have a job after all—not really. I need my own money."

"I'll give you an allowance," Lucius offered. But Snape shook his head.

"No, you'll recoup that, too. I'll just be further in your debt that way."

Lucius blinked at the boy. Snape might be young, but he was sharp.

"Well, possibly we can arrange for you to receive a set amount of residuals per month."

"It's going to have to be better than 'possibly,'" Snape responded.

"Fine. I'll have a solicitor draw up a contract. That way it will be a nice, legal and clearly laid out agreement between us," Lucius said. He could work in a few underhanded terms that way.

Snape studied him. Lucius had always been rather slippery from what he knew of him for the two years they attended school together. He had been in his sixth year when Snape started at Hogwarts.

"That sounds like a good idea," Snape said softly as Lucius gave him a slow smile.

"But, I'll have my own solicitor draw up the terms," the boy added.

Now Lucius scowled.

"Your—your own solicitor? Can you even pay for such services?"

Snape nodded.

"I've lost some years, but I haven't lost my bank account. I can pay for my own solicitor," he informed the wizard. "And the only way we will come to an agreement, one I can feel comfortable with, is if I have someone draw up a contract who wants to protect my interests. Your solicitor will only be concerned with protecting yours."

Lucius' brows drew together.

"Are you sure you're only eighteen? You seem to have quite a mature attitude toward business," he said.

Severus' lip quirked unpleasantly.

"No, I don't have any business experience, but any Slytherin worth his salt knows to protect himself, especially when dealing with another Slytherin," he replied with narrowed eyes.

Lucius stared at him a moment, then broke out into rich laughter.

"I think you're going to go far this second time around, Severus," he chuckled as he finished his drink and stood up, shaking his head slightly at the lank-haired wizard seated before him. "Contact me after you've had the terms written up. I'll show myself out."

Snape didn't move but listened as Lucius donned his cloak and slid the wall back, then exited. After a minute or two, he went and checked that he was truly gone, and warded his office door. He returned to his quarters, walked over to the table where Lucius' glass sat and picked it up, sniffing it. Then he Scourgified it and walked over to the liquor cabinet, eyeing the bottles inside it.

Slowly, he picked up the Firewhiskey and carefully poured a shot into the glass. It had a rich, woody scent. He held it up to the firelight, studying its clarity. Then he chucked it back, swallowing quickly.

That was a mistake.

His throat seemed to catch fire and he spent the next five minutes practically coughing up his lungs.

Firewhiskey was definitely an acquired taste he wasn't yet ready to acquire.

When he recovered, he went into his bedroom, stripped down and left his only set of robes and underwear out for the house elves to launder and took a warm shower. He dried off and climbed into bed naked, sliding his long, slender limbs under the Slytherin green sheets.

He needed to leave Hogwarts tomorrow and buy some robes that fit him, some books and find a solicitor. Lucius' appearance made him realize it was possible to live a fairly decent life despite what happened to him. He might have lost his old memories—

but he could definitely make new ones. Memories that would have to be better than those he lost. He turned on his side and drifted off to sleep with a sense of control and purpose.

After all the loss and uncertainty of the past two days, it was a welcome feeling.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	13. Trying to Clear the Air

**Chapter 12 ~ Trying to Clear the Air**

When Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs, her knapsack brimming with books, Ron was waiting impatiently at the bottom. She walked down and he quickly took the knapsack from her, pretending to stagger a little.

"What do you have in here? A mountain troll?" he asked her as she scowled at him.

"It's not that heavy. You have to just redistribute the weight properly," she said to him.

Ron snorted.

"You'd need five blokes to distribute this weight," he muttered.

"Well, no one told you that you had to carry it," Hermione snapped at him as they began to walk through the common room. "Where's Harry?"

Ron cleared his throat a little.

"He went ahead to breakfast with Ginny. I asked him to because—because I want to ask you something—privately."

"Privately?"

"Yeah."

Hermione shrugged. Ron had never asked her anything that he couldn't say in front of Harry, but—but maybe this was something personal. They walked through the portrait and out into the corridor. Ron pulled out his wand and cast a Muffliato spell around them so no one passing by could hear what they were talking about. All they would hear would be a buzzing in their ears. Hermione frowned slightly at this precautionary measure. This really must be important.

"What did you want to ask me, Ron?" she asked him.

"Well, last night after you left so quickly, I went to talk to Snape," he began.

Hermione's eyes widened. Oh no! Did Ron know she'd blasted him?

"I-I can explain, Ron. I never would have never blasted him if he hadn't made me so angry," she said quickly. "It was reactionary."

Ron blinked at her.

"What? You—you blasted him? Why?" he asked her, frowning now.

"Didn't he tell you?" Hermione asked, her belly tightening uncomfortably.

"No, he didn't tell me. What did he do?" Ron demanded now, thinking Snape might be getting another blasting.

Hermione suddenly felt a little sick. Ron had no idea she'd hexed Severus. She had offered up that information herself. She tried to backpedal.

"First ask me what you were going to ask me," she said, trying to buy some time.

Ron's eyes narrowed at her. Fine. He no longer felt the need to be delicate now that he could tell Hermione was hiding things from him. She should have told him immediately she'd hexed Snape. And why.

"Snape said while he was in your mind he saw you kissing him, when he was a professor here. Did you do that? Did you kiss professor Snape?" he asked her coldly.

"No! He knows that didn't happen, Ron. I never kissed the professor in my life!" she exclaimed.

"So, he was lying about what he saw?" Ron pressed, his eyes full of disbelief.

"No. He wasn't lying. He did see it, but it didn't actually happen," Hermione said, looking away from Ron and at the floor.

"What? How could he see something that didn't happen in your mind, Hermione? That doesn't make any sense."

Hermione reddened, then she looked up at Ron.

"He saw a fantasy, Ron. I had a crush on professor Snape," she admitted. "It was just a small one, and harmless. I never acted on it or said anything to him."

Ron stopped walking, stunned.

"You had the hots for Snape?" he asked her.

"Not the hots. That sounds terrible, Ronald. Honestly. It was just a little schoolgirl crush. Don't tell me you've never had a crush on a teacher before."

"Yeah, but back when I was a third year and couldn't do anything about it. Professor Sinistra. But I was young then, Hermione. This is different. You're past the age of consent."

Hermione frowned at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked him darkly.

"It means you're old enough for the professor to shag, that's what it means," Ron said jealously.

Hermione threw up her hands and started walking again, Ron catching up to her.

"I can't believe this. What does it matter how old I am? Nothing was going to come of it, Ron," she said.

"What if he had tried to have something come of it, Hermione? What if he had—had approached you?" Ron asked her.

"He wouldn't, Ron. He didn't like me."

"But what if he did?"

"He wouldn't, and I'm not going to entertain the idea that he would. It's ridiculous, Ron."

Ron went silent as they caught the shifting stairwell, but the silence was as heavy as if a blanket had been thrown over the both of them. They were on the second floor stairwell before he spoke again.

"So, why did you hex Snape?" he asked her softly.

"Because of what he said to me. I had told him that all this time I thought he was just trouble, but now I realized he was just an arse. Then he said he was an arse that I wanted to lift my robes for. I was so outraged, I hexed him before I could help it."

Ron went silent again for about a minute. They walked down the marble stairwell. Ron stopped at the bottom and looked at her, his blue eyes full of hurt.

"You know what bothers me about this, Hermione? That you were with me when you had this crush on Snape," he said softly. "You were with me."

"Oh, come on, Ron," she said. "You can't tell me you haven't crushed on anyone since we've been together.

Ron stared at her.

"Yes, Hermione. Yes I can," he said softly, removing the Muffliato spell and walking toward the Great Hall, leaving her standing there.

"Ron? Ron!" she called after him.

"Trouble in paradise?" an unwelcome soft voice said behind her as Ron opened the door and walked through. Hermione spun to find the tip of Snape's wand pointed directly between her eyes.

"I'm not about to make the same mistake with you I made last night, Hermione. You are quite—volatile for a bleeding heart Gryffindor. It was surprising that you didn't wait until my back was turned to hex me, like your predecessors," he hissed at her.

"That's because I wanted you to see it coming, you git," she snapped back at him.

Snape flicked his wand and cast another Muffliato spell. The only thing was, it didn't buzz in peoples' ears. When done correctly, they just didn't hear the conversation. Someone had made an error when they originally shared the spell. Snape's spell truly muffled a conversation completely.

Still, students stared at the witch and wizard as they passed, Snape's wand held on Hermione. No one had the nerve to say anything. This situation was still too new. It was clear to see there was some altercation going on, but no one dared to get involved. Snape might still be able to take points or assign detentions.

"How dare you tell Ron I kissed you! You know that never happened," she spat at him angrily.

"It might not have happened, but he wanted to know what changed your opinion of me," Snape purred back at her. "And it had to do with that kiss, real or imagined."

"It didn't. It had to do with you calling me stupid, among other things. You are just insufferable," she declared, stamping her foot.

"Am I really, Hermione? You don't even know me. Not me as I am now. But you knew me when I was truly insufferable, and you were drawn to me despite that. So, logically if you were attracted to me when I really was insufferable, and you consider me insufferable now—I can only surmise that you are still attracted to me," Snape said in a low voice, his eyes gleaming with mirthful malice.

"Ew! No! You are the most reprehensible, irritating, inconsiderate—"

"Are you still going to get my memories from Potter, or are you going to turn back on your word, as those of your house usually do?" he asked her, cutting her off.

Hermione looked shocked.

"You have some nerve asking me that after you—"

Snape gave her a look of blatant disgust.

"Just as I thought," he said witheringly, lowering his wand. "You're just like the rest of them. No different. You go back on your word at the drop of a Knut. Like Lily, like Dumbledore—I don't know why I thought you might—might be different. Special. It seems an intelligent mind doesn't insure good character, does it? I may be a bastard, Hermione Granger, but my character is impeccable. I always keep my word once given. I'll leave you now, and if you feel the urge to fire at my back as I walk away, do so. The precedent was set years ago."

With that, Snape turned and walked toward the double doors that led outside, his robes billowing. Hermione looked after him, feeling ashamed of herself. But why? How did he do that? He was the one who--

"Severus! I'll get them!" she called after him.

He paused at the door, but didn't look back.

He exited.

Hermione let out a sigh, then suddenly thought, "Ron!"

She spun to see Ron standing next to the doors of the Great Hall. The other students had told him Snape was holding a wand on her and he hurried out to see Hermione talking to him. The wizard looked very intense, but he didn't seem as if he were going to hex her. Ron stood there, watching as Snape talked to her very intensely, almost intimately, then spun and walked away, Hermione looking after him with obvious concern. Then she'd shouted she'd get something for him. After all the nastiness that passed between them, she was still interacting with the wizard. She wasn't angry with him.

And that made Ron angry at her. He turned and walked back into the Great Hall without a word. The look on his face had said everything.

Obviously, she was still crushing on the snarky bastard.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said softly, walking to the Great Hall and letting herself in. She had to make Ron understand there wasn't anything going on.

* * *

Solicitor James Bartleby was looking over some parchments when a knock sounded on his door. He quickly looked at his appointment sheet. He didn't have any appointments. Maybe this was a walk-in.

"Come in," the comfortably rotund, blue-eyed, balding wizard said.

The door opened and in walked a rather solemn-looking young man, rather tall and thin with lank black hair and dark, sober eyes. He was dressed in black robes and trainers.

"May I help you?" he asked. This wizard looked vaguely familiar.

"Yes. Are you James Bartleby?" Snape asked him.

"I am. And you are?"

Snape took a seat in the armchair before the desk and met Bartleby's eyes.

"I am Severus Snape, your client," he responded.

Bartleby blinked at him.

"Severus Snape Jr.?" he asked the young man, who shook his head.

"No. The Severus Snape. There's been a bit of a potions accident—"

Snape had sorted through the desk in his study a bit more and found a business letter from Bartleby about a small investment he had made. So, that's where he went.

Bartleby listened in amazement as Snape gave him the bare bones of the matter and what he needed to do.

"So, you remember nothing?" the solicitor asked him.

"No. I'm starting from scratch. But as you can see, Lucius Malfoy has made me an offer that will get me off to a new start. I just want to make sure that I am protected. That he won't rob me blind," Snape said.

Bartleby smirked. Snape had always been a cautious man, and sharp. Obviously, he started out that way.

Bartleby was a man used to extraordinary situations. He often represented clients in the midst of them. However, this had to be the most extraordinary situation yet. Amazing. Too bad the potion that caused this accident wasn't available. Snape would make a fortune if he could find a way to youthen others but allow them to keep their memories, then marketed it. Maybe—maybe in the future.

"So, you'd like me to draw up a contractual agreement of patronage between yourself and Lord Malfoy?"

"Yes. I want limits on how much he can recoup at one time and some access to my residuals while under his patronage. Oh, and full rights to my potions."

Bartleby smiled.

"You don't want much, do you, Mr. Snape?"

Snape gave him a thin lipped smile. He liked this wizard for some reason, possibly because it seemed they had a good working relationship in the past and he didn't seem too taken aback by his current situation.

"I want as much as I can get, Mr. Bartleby," he replied.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	14. Snape's Day Out

**Chapter 13 ~ Snape's Day Out**

Snape left Bartleby's office, the solicitor telling him he'd send an owl after he negotiated the contract with Lucius' counsel.

"It makes no sense to draw up a contract that will just be challenged and sent back, Mr. Snape. It's a ploy many in our profession use to earn more Galleons as well as look like their working hard for their clients. A contract can fly back and forth fifteen times before it is deemed suitable for both parties. It is time consuming as well as a less than stellar practice. I will simply contact Lord Malfoy and ask to be put in contact with his representatives."

Snape nodded as he rose.

"Thank you, Mr. Bartleby," he said, then slowly extended his hand.

Bartleby looked bemused, then rose, reached over the desk and shook his hand firmly.

"You know, Mr. Snape, I've represented you for years, more years than your age now, and not once in all that time have you shaken my hand," he said to the wizard. "You have quite the opportunity before you—another chance at life. I don't think you made much contact with people last time. I hope you don't make the same mistake twice."

Snape withdrew his hand and looked at Bartleby soberly, and the solicitor colored slightly.

"I'm sorry to seem to talk down to you, Mr. Snape, but it is difficult not to offer advice to someone so young who has so much potential. Your story is known throughout the wizarding world, and you lived a very dangerous, difficult and apparently lonely life. You were the epitome of the "Dark Hero. I'm just trying to say, it doesn't have to be so dark this time around."

"Thank you, Mr. Bartleby," Snape replied, turned and walked to the door. He opened it, looked back at the wizard, nodded slightly and added, "Good day to you, sir."

Bartleby smiled broadly at him.

"And to you, sir," he replied, watching as the young man exited his office.

"Good day to you? My, another first," Bartleby said as he sat back down at his desk. He picked up the notes he had jotted down during his consultation with Snape.

"I have a feeling there are good things in that wizard's future," he mused.

"Good things indeed."

* * *

Snape thought about the solicitor's words as he walked down Diagon Alley. James Bartleby was the first person he'd met that he felt comfortable with. Everyone else seemed to be—well—he couldn't explain it, but it was as if everyone in the world had an advantage over him, and the feeling made him surly and bad-tempered. Bartleby, however, made him feel as if he had the whole world spread out before him. When he spoke, he spoke of the future, not the past. And that was precisely what Snape had needed to hear. Positive possibilities.

Bartleby made him see that it was him who had the best advantage. He was no longer targeted by the Marauders, and as far as he knew, had no real enemies. Maybe he had a burgeoning one in Ron, but he was just one Gryffindor. One was nothing compared to four. It was clear that his life took a turn for the worse the first time around, and he didn't do all he could have done for himself because of it. Snape had a strong desire to be successful, and believed he could improve the field of Potions and become a master of worth, not some bitter teacher stuck in a dungeon teaching dunderheads. He would have never chosen that path for himself, and he certainly didn't intend to do it this time. Maybe he was such a bastard of a professor because he was stuck where he didn't want to be. It was a possibility.

Well, this time, it would be different. Very different.

Snape stopped in front of the second-hand robes shop, frowning slightly. That was where every robe he ever owned came from. It was time for a change. New robes were just the beginning. He continued walking until he arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop, and entered.

Madam Malkin had retired, and her daughter now ran the shop. She was known as Madam Deets, because she was married, but she left the sign the same. Madam Malkin's name was practically synonymous with quality robes. She looked up and saw a young wizard enter, looking about the shop.

A stout woman with blonde-hair, blue eyes and a ready smile, she walked from behind the counter.

"May I help you, young man?" she asked him.

"Yes, I need robes," Snape told her as he continued looking about.

"School robes?" Madam Deets inquired politely.

Snape thought about it.

"No, not school robes. Nice robes, but not too nice. Something I can wear everyday and not attract too much attention."

"Ah, casual robes. Right this way," the witch said with a smile, leading Snape to a part of the shop that had very nice black robes. Snape eyed them. He remembered the robes he wore when the accident occurred had a lot of buttons. It was very different from what other people seemed to wear.

"Do you have robes with buttons?" he asked her.

"All our robes have buttons or fasteners," Madam Deets replied.

"I mean a lot of buttons," Snape explained.

"Oh," Madam Deets said. "Well, yes we do, but they are a bit pricey for a young man."

"I want to see them."

Madam Deets led Snape over to the more expensive robes. He felt the fabric with his fingertips, and twisted and turned them on the racks. One had serpents embroidered in the fabric, but they could only be seen when the light hit them just right. But, all of them had SO many buttons, it would take a lot of time to put them on, and take them off.

"The buttons—how long does it take someone to put these on?" Snape asked Madam Deets, who laughed. She had a tinkling laugh, and it was very pleasant. Snape didn't feel at all put out by it. He normally hated being laughed at.

"Oh, there's a little spell charmed into these robes. You can fasten and unfasten them instantly just by saying the charm. And, it will only work for the owner of the robes, otherwise pranksters would be disrobing you at every turn," she said, smiling at him.

Snape could imagine the heyday the Marauders would have had if he owned robes that could be instantly removed. He scowled a little.

"It's an easy charm," Madam Deets said quickly, thinking her potential customer didn't like the idea because he was scowling.

"All right," he said, leafing through the robes again. After ten minutes, he had picked four sets of very nice, heavily buttoned robes, including the one with the embroidered serpents.

"They're going to have to be fitted, Mr.—"

"Snape. Mr. Snape," Snape said. "Fitted?"

"Oh yes. Robes of this quality are always fitted," Madam Deets said.

Snape hesitated. All he had on under his robes was a pair of worn underwear. He had never worn anything else because he couldn't afford many clothes.

"Um, do you sell trousers here?" he asked the witch, who colored brightly.

Luckily she did, and shirts, underwear and socks. Snape was completely outfitted and felt rather giddy as he left the shop dressed in one of his new robes, his other items miniaturized and in his pocket. All of Madam Malkin's robes were self-ironing and self-repairing, so he felt he made a good investment. He wore a shirt and trousers underneath and had even purchased a belt with a Slytherin buckle.

"You're going to need shoes," Madam Deets told him, eyeing his trainers. They'd been given to him by Poppy. His boots had been damaged in the explosion and the pair in his wardrobe were slightly too wide for his feet. They slipped when he walked.

So, next he went to Shropman's Shoe Shop and bought two pairs of shining black leather boots. He didn't buy any trainers. All his life, he'd worn run-over trainers. No more. Besides, boots were more protective than shoes when working with potions that could burn the skin if dropped and splashed. Boots were standard Potions master garb.

He told the shopkeeper to throw his trainers away and left the store wearing his boots, cutting a rather nice figure as he walked down Diagon Alley. He caught sight of himself in several windows, slowing as he looked at his hair.

He never did much with it before. He hadn't cared about his appearance much to begin with. He was poor so it didn't matter how his hair looked when he was wearing hand-me-downs and run over trainers. He cared even less when Lily stopped being his friend. But, things were different now.

He continued walking, looking for a barbershop or hair salon where he could get his hair cut. He looked up and saw a sign that read, "Love Bites Beauty Shop."

But there were pictures in the windows of both witches and wizards with their hair cut and styled. He didn't want his hair styled, but he did want it cut and maybe washed with something so it wouldn't look so stringy and lank. He tried to peer in the windows but they were heavily tinted. So he took the plunge and went in.

The shop seemed to be empty. There were several chairs by the window, a table with a stack of beauty magazines on it, a few shelves of hair and beauty products, and several cushioned, swivel chairs in front of a long mirror. Hair styling equipment rested on a shelf that ran the length of the mirror.

"Hello?" he called.

"Hello," an effeminate voice suddenly said right next to him. Snape jumped as he spun to see a chubby wizard with blue eyes, long lashes and spiky brown smiling at him.

"Where did you come from?" Snape asked, his heart pounding.

"I was here all the time," Adam Sweetmeats, the store proprietor said, his eyes sweeping over the young man from head to toe and back again, finally resting on his hair. "You walked right by me."

There was something about the wizard's smile and mannerisms that made Snape feel uncomfortable. He hadn't seen anyone and he was looking. Suddenly, he was aware of someone else and turned to see a tall, unsmiling blond man standing next to him.

"That's Victor," Adam said by way of introduction. "And I'm Adam. Adam Sweetmeats. I own the shop."

Snape moved a bit so he wasn't between the two—er—men.

"I need a haircut," he said uncertainly.

"You need more than that, my dear, believe me. Your hair is horrid," Adam responded. "I can't let you leave with it looking that way, cut or not. You need it washed and conditioned, immediately. Then, I'll cut it for you."

Snape stared at the wizard. He was nearly as pale as Snape was, and definitely batting for the other team. But, he'd heard gay men were very good at things cosmetic. He didn't feel any way about their sexual orientation as long as they didn't approach him. He didn't bend that way.

"All right," he said.

"Right this way," Adam said, walking over to the chairs before the mirror.

Snape followed him, Victor's eyes on him steadily.

"Just sit down, right here," Adam said, patting the seat of the chair.

Snape was just about to sit down when he noticed with horror that Adam had no reflection. He jumped away from the chair, whipped out his wand and pointed it at the startled shopkeeper.

"Solar—"

That was as far as he made it. Victor was on him, clutching his wrist and his throat painfully, nearly crushing his windpipe. The vampire's eyes were red and his eyeteeth fully elongated as he snarled at his captive.

"Easy Victor. Don't hurt him," Adam said softly. Victor's eyes shifted toward Adam, then he relaxed a bit, still holding Snape but not as tightly. The young wizard tugged at Victor's wrist to try and get him to release his throat, but his grip was like iron.

"You're—you're vampires," he rasped, his eyes wet.

"Yes we are, darling. Vampires. Not roaches to be exterminated on sight," Adam purred. "I've had this shop for several years. We don't hunt humans. You are perfectly safe."

Snape didn't feel perfectly safe with Victor still holding and growling at him, although his teeth were retracted.

"If you had cast that Solaris spell, nothing would have happened to me, but dear Victor would have been turned to ash. So, you can understand his—demeanor. He's a Sentient. He can't survive that spell. As a Queen, I can. Now, are you going to be a good boy if Victor releases you?"

Snape nodded and the vampire let him go, but hovered menacingly. Snape rubbed his throat.

"I'd better go," he said, starting to back away.

Victor was instantly behind him, blocking the way.

"No, you'd better not," Adam said with a toothy smile.

* * *

An hour later, Snape left the Love Bites shop with his hair neatly cut and shining. He had purchased shampoo and conditioner that Adam said would keep his hair from becoming lank. It smelled like sandalwood, but it wasn't a bad scent. He wouldn't be able to use it when brewing, because his sense of smell would be compromised, but he could use it other times.

As he walked, Snape couldn't help but notice a few passing witches giving him a second glance. These weren't young witches either. This was something new. Apparently nice clothes and a haircut made all the difference. People were so shallow.

He'd definitely use that to his advantage in the future.

Now he was heading to Flourish and Blotts bookstore. He needed to purchase updated books to study for his NEWTS. As he walked, he passed the Quality Quidditch Supply shop.

He backed up, looking at a broom in the window. It was beautifully streamlined, with stirrups and a gleaming oak handle. Snape had never seen a broom like it. Back when he went to Hogwarts, the brooms were nothing like this. Nothing.

The sign above it read: Firebolt. The Fastest Broom in Existence.

Snape's black eyes glittered as he looked at the broom. He'd never owned a broom before. He could barely afford books and clothes, and given the choice, he purchased books, books of all types from everyplace he could. It was his one indulgence.

Now, he was going to indulge himself with something different.

He purchased the Firebolt and paid a little extra to have it customized. It now had a gleaming black handle and an airbrushed silver serpent with green eyes ready to strike encircling it. It was the nicest broom he'd ever seen.

And it was his. All his.

Severus Snape was burning through his savings, but he had the carefree nature of a child in a candy shop as he made his purchases. The older Snape would never have been so frivolous. As an adult, Snape never wore anything other than briefs under his robes, even when he could afford it. This Snape had purchased clothing and boxers rather than briefs. He liked the way they looked, like shorts. If he had been wearing those down by the lake when James Potter exposed him, it would have been all right. Well, less embarrassing. He didn't purchase any casual clothing such as t-shirts or jeans. He wanted to look—well—imposing. Adult. Different from everyone else at the school. He was different, after all.

Snape now carried a little black bag with him because his pockets were getting too crowded by his purchases. He entered the book shop next, an honest to goodness smile on his pale face.

* * *

A/N: lol. I had to do something about Snape's hair. So of course, I had Adam and Victor show up, although Adam isn't his usual Snape-loving self. That's because Snape's little more than a boy. I thought this was the perfect way to begin to show the initial changes in Snape now that he has a second chance at life. But, we couldn't lose all those buttons on his robes now, could we? Lolol. Thanks so much for reading.


	15. Outlooks

**Chapter 14 ~ Outlooks**

Ron was sullen and non-responsive at breakfast, even when Hermione cast a Muffliato to try and talk to him while they were eating.

"Ron, stop being like this. It was nothing, I told you that," she said to him.

Ron looked at her but didn't answer, then departed, leaving her knapsack on the bench.

"Ooh," Hermione hissed removing the spell.

Harry and Ginny didn't say anything. This was between Hermione and Ron. All they could do was hope they'd work it out somehow.

As Hermione headed for her first class, she was angry at Ron. He knew she didn't have much time during the week to do any socializing, and she certainly didn't have time to chase after him to try and make him talk to her. She scheduled time on the weekends for that and tutoring other students, but she focused on her own work during the week, trying to get it all done before the weekend so she could help others with their studies. It was a grueling schedule, but Hermione thrived under it. The only reason she even took her meals in the Great Hall was so Ron could see her for a few minutes. She'd prefer to take them in her room so she could work while eating, but Ron wouldn't stand for that. He already felt she didn't spend enough time with him.

And she really didn't. She couldn't, not with all the NEWTS she was taking. She didn't want to waste a single OWL, not one. She felt she'd somehow be letting herself down if she didn't retain those excellent marks when she graduated.

Ron was being unfair. He should realize that she didn't need this right now. He had no right to be jealous anyway. He was the one who actually had something going on with another witch at one time. Lavender Brown. But he and Hermione hadn't really been going out then. Now they were and he didn't have eyes for anyone else.

She didn't have eyes for anyone else either. Well, not really. A crush on a teacher shouldn't count as cheating at all. It was natural. Even Ron admitted to liking professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, who was quite a lovely witch. But he had been a third year then. Not a grown wizard the age of consent. But, what difference did that make, really? She hadn't actually done anything with professor Snape. She just—imagined what it would be like to—

Hermione blushed furiously, glad that Snape had only seen that little glimpse of her fantasies about his older self. Imagine if he had seen her fantasies of actually being shagged by the snarky wizard in his classroom. Merlin. The attraction started shortly after Snape's return to Hogwarts. He was still as mean as ever, if not meaner, and even more anti-social than before. She only saw him in the classroom. He stopped taking meals with the other teachers completely.

She couldn't say why it happened, or how. It—just did. One day when she was seated in his class and he was lecturing, his dark eyes fell on her for a split second and she felt a thrill go through her. It was electric and startling, hitting her right between her thighs. It was the most disturbing thing she had ever felt, but delicious as well. And that was when it started, Hermione imagining herself kissing him and him kissing her back, then touching her, and saying all manner of crude things to her as he did so, calling her a silly girl to play with him this way—then--

Hermione turned into class, pushing everything out of her mind. Ron, Snape and her own distorted feelings. Professor Snape was gone now, at least the Snape of her fantasies. She had to convince Ron one way or the other that the crush was gone too.

As for the Snape of today, she was going to get those blasted memories for him as soon as she could, but before she gave them to him, he was going to listen to what she had to say. He'd definitely be getting an earful.

* * *

Ron was just as sullen at lunch and supper as he had been at breakfast, giving Hermione the silent treatment and frustrating the witch to no end. Finally, Hermione gave up trying to talk to him and focused on her studies. However, she did send him a note from her room, in the shape of a butterfly. It was charmed to go directly to his room. It did, unfolding on his bed. Ron was out flying with Harry. He wasn't very talkative and Harry was just there for him.

When he finally returned to Gryffindor Tower, he found Hermione' note on his bed. It read:

_Ron, _

_We need to talk this weekend. I've scheduled time for us between 2 and 3 in the afternoon. I've left a little wriggle room in case we need more time._

_Hermione_

Ron put the note on his nightstand. So, she penciled him in for the weekend, which meant she didn't care if he were upset or not talking to her for the whole week. She had made an effort to talk to him, but she'd given up so fast. It was as if she didn't want to waste time on him.

Ron let out a sigh. Yes, he did need to talk to Hermione, and not just about the Snape situation, but about what she planned to do when she graduated. She told him they'd have more time to be together, but for how long? What were her plans? What did she want to do with her life? And how did he fit in, if he fit in at all?

Ron sighed again, plopping down on the bed. Harry was in the common room with Ginny, playing Snap. Hermione never had time for games. She didn't have time for anything but herself and her blasted studies. Oh. And Snape, even after he said she wanted to lift her robes for him.

Maybe she did.

Ron and Hermione had shagged one time, right after the final battle, and it had been a bit of an ordeal for both of them. Using the condom had been very awkward, Ron stopping to put it on and throwing everything out of sync. Hermione had insisted he use one despite the contraceptive spell she had cast on herself. An unplanned pregnancy wasn't one of her main goals in life.

The sex itself had been better for Ron than it had been for Hermione. It was her first time, so there was some initial pain, and Ron was too inexperienced to know how to make it better for her. Also, the blood had squicked him a little and he softened. They finally managed to complete the act, but it was far from the romantic coupling Hermione had hoped for. They hadn't been intimate since, which made her crush on Snape even more disturbing to Ron.

Although he understood her workload was heavy and required much of her time, and even understood her need to help other students, sometimes it felt like Hermione kept so busy to avoid any intimacy with him. Ginny and Harry were openly affectionate as were many other couples. As far as Ron could tell, theirs was the only relationship like this in school. Hermione was a very special witch, and he was very proud that he had her for a girlfriend. Everyone knew how brilliant she was and although Ron was also considered one of the major heroes in the fight against Voldemort, he felt having Hermione was like a kind of proof of just how special he was. This wasn't a conscious feeling, however, just something underneath he wasn't really aware of. Ron believed he loved Hermione, otherwise he wouldn't go through all he did.

And although he didn't say anything to Hermione about the comment Snape made about lifting her robes for him, it had been troubling because Snape could have been speaking the truth. Ron had no idea how far Hermione's fantasies about Snape had gone. Did she only dream about kissing him, or did she fantasize about him putting his greasy mitts and other parts all over her body? Ron felt sickened even at the though of it.

Yes, they needed to talk. Right now, they were definitely on the outs.

* * *

Minerva shared the letter she'd received from the Board of Governors concerning Snape with Albus' portrait The Board had wasted no time addressing the matter once they were made aware of the situation.

"It says here, Albus, that Severus is to remain at Hogwarts as a ward of the school until he completes his NEWTS.

"Ah, excellent. I'm glad to see the Board isn't just turning him out," the portrait replied.

Minerva nodded and continued sharing the Board's findings.

"He will be provided with room and board, and given the sum of 400 Galleons in lieu of notice, effective immediately."

Minerva frowned.

"That doesn't seem like much of a severance pay considering all the years he's been here and the service he provided for the school," she said angrily.

"You know the Board, Minerva. To get any decent amount of money out of them outside of the budget, you would have to pry it from their collective cold, dead hands."

Minerva snorted, knowing the portrait was right. Actually, the severance pay would put Snape's savings almost exactly back to where it was. It was doubtful he'd complain about it.

"He will retain his quarters until the end of the year until graduation, then will have to depart before the next term begins to make room for a new Potions teacher. I suppose I should start searching for a replacement immediately. It won't be easy to replace him. As snarky as Severus is—er—was, he did teach well. He got through to the students."

"That's one way of putting it," Albus' portrait replied evenly, its blue eyes twinkling.

Minerva smirked slightly, even as her eyes glistened a bit. Severus' teaching methods appeared to be quite harsh, and he, rather cruel, but he had come about his style of teaching honestly and through conditioning.

When the wizard first became a teacher at Hogwarts, he was only twenty-one and at the most, three years older than his seventh year students, some of whom remembered him being targeted by Potter, Black and the others.

Snape had started out fairly enough, determined to try and teach everyone equally, but the Gryffindors were insufferable. The other houses weren't much better, simply because he was so young. They challenged him, threw papers and spells at him when his back was turned, gave him cheek and would blow up their cauldrons because they half-listened—

One day, Snape changed his methods dramatically.

He walked into the classroom, and both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors were boisterously chattering, running about and doing basically what they always did.

"Sit down!" Snape had yelled, but no one paid attention—

Until he started Imperioing everyone, forcibly sticking them in their chairs and shutting their mouths. It was an Unforgivable, but Snape was Dumbledore's man even then and he wasn't reprimanded for it. After that, he had a few magical altercations with the older students, but Snape was a very nasty dueler, thanks to the Marauders.

Eventually, he put the physical fear of Snape into his students, than began to work on the psychological fear, the fear that would keep generations of students properly cowed so he could force some knowledge into their heads.

On another occasion, (and Minerva never forgot this because her Gryffindors had complained about it so badly, it was as if she'd been there), Snape entered the classroom with an armful of potions and set them on his desk. He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time.

He turned to the class and said softly, "I am going to give you an oral quiz. I will ask what ingredients are used to make a potion, and you in turn will give me the proper formula. However—"

Here, Snape gave the nasty half-smile he was becoming known for.

"If you do not give me the proper formula, you will take a sip of the potion in question. We're going to start out with Both Ends Elixir; a potion used to—ah—cleanse the body."

Both Ends Elixir cleansed the body all right. Anyone who took it would be running at both ends until nothing was left. They had to stay within ten feet of a bathroom for at least four hours. That had been one hell of a test, with Snape starting with the Gryffindors. He utilized a Silencing spell so the other students couldn't hear the nervous responses, and the Imperio curse on the few reluctant students who tried to refuse to participate. There was an outcry from parents, but Dumbledore handled everything.

When Snape met with the outraged parents in conference, he calmly told them that Potions was a dangerous subject and his teaching methods ensured the students got the gist of it. And, if they didn't like it, he could always give their children "alternate" non-potion-related assignments, such as growing and tending daisies grown in fresh, pungent Thestral manure.

Later generations of students didn't know it, but Snape had toned it down quite a bit over the years.

Minerva looked back down at the parchment and continued.

"His Potions class is to be taught by the rest of the staff in rotation according to the lesson plan he developed before the accident. Since Severus is an adult and not a true student of Hogwarts, he will not be subject to the restrictions or punishments of the rest of the students. He will not be able to win or lose house points, or be assigned detentions. But, if he exhibits bad behavior, after three verbal warnings and one written one, he risks complete expulsion from Hogwarts."

"What about his Head of House duties?" the portrait asked.

"Slughorn will have to serve as the Head of House for the rest of the year. No doubt the old walrus will love that," Minerva said with a sniff. She didn't approve of how Slughorn treated students. He showed blatant favoritism that made them either big-headed or feel like they didn't exist at all.

"Ah, well. I'd better summon him and let him know all this," Minerva said with a sigh.

Albus' portrait took on a green pallor.

"I believe I'll go visit the fruit painting near the kitchens," it said, Albus' image disappearing quickly. There were a few grunts, exclamations and squeals as he slipped through the other portraits on his way out.

Minerva just shook her head.

"The Great Albus Dumbledore," she said with a sigh.

* * *

A/N: Ok. The issues between Ron and Hermione are clearly marked and Snape's standing at the school also clearly defined. I threw in a little AU history of Snape's early years as a teacher. I imagine it could have gone this way for him, since he was so young and made him the teacher he became, along with all his other problems. Now we can get to the good stuff. :) Thanks for reading.

A/A/N: Debra, Ibn and Chi have just headed off to the hospital. The twins will be delivered by C-section at noon. Good lordy, that brings my grandbaby count up to 10! And this from children who swore they'd never have any. Don't believe them when they tell you that, trust me. I may have come into this world alone, but I'll be leaving plenty behind when I go. :)


	16. An Offer

**Chapter 15 ~ An Offer**

Minerva didn't manage to catch up to Snape until the evening after supper, when he returned to Hogwarts. He entered the castle Disillusioned and headed down the dungeon stairs. There were no students about because most of them were taking their meals. He didn't expect to run into anyone—

"Hey now! Stop right there! I have you!" a voice hissed and Snape felt someone grab his arm from behind in a tight grip. "Don't you try anything! Take off that spell! Now!"

Snape turned to see a crotchety Argus Filch holding on to him. The old caretaker had seen him enter the school. Since the final battle, Disillusionment inside Hogwarts was against the rules. But, Filch was a squib. He could be easily hexed. Filch had been at Hogwarts a long time and Snape recognized his gnarled features. He tapped his wand to his head and removed the spell.

Argus looked at Snape through his rheumy eyes and quickly released him.

"So, it's you, professor," Filch said, looking at him suspiciously. "I heard about what happened to you but didn't get a chance to see you, until now."

"Hello, Mr. Filch," Snape replied as Filch squinted at him up and down.

"You know, I never forget a student," Filch said to him as Mrs. Norris ran down the corridor and rubbed against his arthritic legs. "You look a lot like you did when you were here the first time, but—you look better than you did then. Not so—can't quite put my finger on it."

Snape eyed Filch. When Snape was a student, it was Filch who always tried to help him. Well, he would try to catch Potter and the Marauders in action. He was just as suspicious of their activities as Snape, and got as much help from Dumbledore as the Slytherin did, which was next to none. He did manage to get them a few detentions though, and Snape had always appreciated it.

"Maybe it's because I no longer have the Marauders stalking my heels," Snape said in response. Filch's craggy face contorted.

"Those devils," he breathed. "Some of the worst rule breakers Hogwarts has ever seen. Dumbledore favored them, he did. But—"

Here he nodded at Snape soberly.

"—we knew what they were, didn't we, Mr. Snape?"

Snape nodded soberly.

"All dead now. Every one of 'em. Always knew they'd meet a sticky end. And Potter's son was little better. Always in trouble, that one. Running off into danger and bringing people with him. Oh, he did all right in the end, but he was as bad as his father when it came to rule breaking. Didn't target anyone, but still managed to nearly get himself killed five times over at least. Probably if it wasn't for you, he would have died—"

Snape just blinked at him.

"Oh, you don't remember that, do you? Nobody knew how much you protected him until everything was over and the Dark Lord breathed his last. You gave everything—almost your life too. It's a shame what's happened to you, but—"

The old squib sighed.

"I wish I could get a bit of what you had. It would be nice to have bones that didn't ache," he said wistfully. "Wouldn't want to be as young as you, but some years off wouldn't be bad at all."

Snape felt a bit sorry for the old man.

"It was an accident, Mr. Filch," he said, a bit of regret in his voice.

Filch waved a hand at him.

"I know. I know. Just the silliness of an old man, Mr. Snape. You can go along. But since the final battle, there's no Disillusionment spells allowed in the castle. It's fine on the grounds. Just not inside."

Snape started to walk down the hall, then stopped and turned toward Filch.

"Mr. Filch, I made some improvements to the pain salve carried in the infirmary. I added a few anti-inflammatory ingredients. I don't know if I ever shared it with anyone, but if the infirmary doesn't carry it, I'll brew you up a batch—for your bones. It should help."

Filch looked at him in surprise.

"I—I'd appreciate that, Mr. Snape," he said, his voice a little hoarse. Severus Snape had been a very gifted potions student when he attended Hogwarts. But he would never have offered to give him anything. He wasn't a very friendly sort. But now—"

"You're welcome, sir. I'll do it as soon as I find out what the standard salve consists of," Snape replied. "Good-bye."

Filch watched Snape walked down the hallway and let himself into the office.

"I think its going to be better for you this time around, boy," he said softly under his breath. Mrs. Norris howled up at him and he held out his arms. The cat leapt into them, purring. Filch petted her.

"Come on, Mrs. Norris. Let's see if we can find some real rule breakers," he said as he hobbled back up the corridor.

* * *

Ron was playing chess in the common room with Neville when Hermione made the rare appearance from her room. She looked exhausted as she walked toward him. He looked up at her and watched as she turned off and approached Harry.

"Harry, I need to ask you something," she said to him. "In private."

Harry had been sitting on the sofa talking to the other students about the upcoming Quidditch game against Ravenclaw. Ron watched her, his face slightly contorted.

Harry knew Hermione and Ron weren't talking and was actually surprised to see her in the common room. He excused himself and walked over to her. They both moved to a corner of the common room. Ron's rook was taken because he didn't pay attention to the board. So, she could make time to talk to Harry, could she?

"Harry, Severus wants you to give him back the memories he shared with you," she told him softly. "The ones that happened after Lily. He doesn't need those. He remembers them like it was yesterday."

Harry looked thoughtful.

"Do you think that's wise, Hermione? Just to give it to him without any preparation? There's things in there that he's bound to take out of context, and things he won't know, like it was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed my mother and father, not him."

Hermione knew he was right.

"Maybe we can help it along, Harry," she said. "I have an idea. I've got a Pensieve in my knapsack that I borrowed from Advanced Charms class. I'll get it, and we can go to your room and sort everything out."

Ron saw the excited look on Hermione's face as she hurried back up the stairs to her room. He conceded his chess game and walked over to Harry.

"What did Hermione want?" he asked his friend.

Harry looked hesitant to tell Ron. He and Hermione weren't talking and he knew the last thing Ron needed to hear was she was doing something for Snape.

"She wanted me to do something," Harry answered evasively.

Ron frowned at him. He didn't have to say a word.

"All right. She wants me to give her Snape's memories so she can bring them to him," Harry admitted.

"Snape again," Ron muttered. "She pencils me in for Saturday, but makes time for this. You'd think I'd be more important."

He saw Hermione descending the stairs and quickly walked back over to the chess table. Lavender Brown was watching him closely. She was always watching Ron and Hermione. She didn't think they belonged together. Ron would be much better off with her.

She watched as Hermione and Harry walked up the stairs leading to the boys' rooms and disappeared around the corner, then looked back at Ron, who was scowling after them. She noticed they appeared to be fighting this morning, Ron giving Hermione the silent treatment. There could be trouble in paradise, and Lavender had no problem with the idea of offering Ron a healthy helping of forbidden fruit.

Ron sat down at one of the tables, and Lavender stood up and walked over to a box that contained games, plucking out a deck of cards. She walked over to where Ron was sitting and sat down across from him, taking the cards out of the box and deftly shuffling them. Ron looked over at her.

"Oh. Hi, Lavender," he said to her bleakly.

She gave him a smile.

"Hi Ron. Feel like being whipped at a game of Snap?" she asked him.

Ron's brow furrowed.

"Whipped? By who? You?"

"Who else?" she grinned at him.

Ron eyed Lavender. When they used to fool around she had very interesting ways of distracting him from his hand, such as leaning over and letting him get an eyeful of her cleavage. She was wearing a rather low-cut blouse right now, and he wouldn't mind a little bit of innocent distraction right now, especially when he was feeling so neglected by Hermione. Plus, Lavender was a very good Snap player.

"Deal," he said.

* * *

Hermione descended the stairs about forty-five minutes later, ready to bring Snape his memories. She faltered at the bottom of the stairs when she saw Ron and Lavender sitting at a table together, playing cards, the witch laughing and Ron grinning as they played a game of Snap. It was clear the both of them were having fun.

Lavender caught Hermione's eyes for just a second, then cut back to Ron, not saying anything about his girlfriend watching them. Ron was dealing, and said something that made Lavender laugh, albeit, just a bit too loudly. Harry came down the stairs, first looking at Hermione standing there, then over at Ron.

"Oh, no. Not Lavender," he thought.

Suddenly, Hermione stalked toward the common room entrance, then through it. There was no doubt about it. That was her "angry" walk. However bad things were before between Ron and Hermione, they had just become infinitely worse.

* * *

Snape was reading a book he'd purchased on the NEWTS exams, explaining the requirements of the program. He'd been rather dismayed to find out that Arithmancy had been added to the potions portion of the exam as a written requirement. Snape hadn't done badly in Arithmancy, garnering an "Acceptable" but he wasn't familiar with its application as far as potions went.

Damn it. Studying for his NEWTS was going to consist of more than review. The idea of sitting in on potions under Slughorn didn't thrill him either.

He had gone to meet with the Headmistress, who informed him of his current status at Hogwarts. He was no longer a teacher, but not quite a student. He was a ward. They'd given him severance pay and room and board until the end of the term. That was fine. By then his arrangement with Lucius should be legally viable. The only downside of this was that the Headmistress was going to share this information not only with the staff but with the student body as a whole at breakfast tomorrow. He wasn't required to be there, and didn't plan to be. He didn't want a whole hall full of students staring at him like he was some kind of experiment gone wrong—which he was by the way, but he didn't need to be reminded of it so blatantly.

A knock sounded on his office door. He was dressed in a black housecoat tied with a sash and black silk boxers underneath. He chose silk because he thought it would feel nice against his skin. It did.

Who could that be? It was quite close to curfew.

He tucked his wand into his pocket, opened the study wall and walked into his office. He approached the door.

"Who is it?" he called, frowning slightly.

"It's Hermione Granger. I have something for you," she replied rather angrily.

Snape caught the note of anger in her voice and smirked a little as he opened the door.

"And what do you have for me, Hermione Granger?" he asked her softly.

Hermione wasn't at all moved by the softness. She was too mad at Ron.

"Your blasted memories. Now, let me in," she snapped at him, pushing by.

Snape blinked after Hermione as she stormed through the wall opening, then closed and warded the office door and followed her, lowering the wall.

Hermione walked over to the fireplace, unslung her knapsack, reached into it and pulled out a small bowl. She sat it on the small table between the armchairs.

"There's your memories. I hope you enjoy them," she snarled at him, closing up her knapsack. "And for your information, I was still going to get them for you. Just because you acted the arse didn't mean I would go back on my word. You jumped to erroneous conclusions about me, and I don't appreciate it. As a matter of fact, I don't appreciate your treatment of me at all. When this happened to you, I helped you the best I could, taking you around because you were lost and wandless and needed someone to help you sort things out. Then, I was kind enough to share my memories of you as a teacher, and what do you do? Insult me, and then to add insult to injury, you imply that something was going on between us to my boyfriend! Arse doesn't even begin to cover what you are, Severus Snape, and this is it. I'm not helping you any further! You're on your own!"

Hermione began storming back toward the door when Snape caught her arm.

"Wait," he hissed at her.

"Let me go!" Hermione yelled at him, tugging her arm.

"Wait. Wait. I'm—I'm sorry," Snape said softly. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm just not used to—to people helping me. I'm also an acerbic bastard most of the time, conditioning, you know. Your boyfriend, well, I wanted to get back at you for hexing me. I was coming after you when he confronted me, and I just thought it would be a way to get back at you for getting the drop on me. You're amazingly fast."

Hermione blinked at him as he let her go.

"Well, that being what it may, it doesn't excuse your actions, Severus. Ron is furious with me."

"Why? Didn't you tell him the truth? It was just a crush on a teacher?"

"Of course I did."

"So, nothing happened. I don't see why he's mad at you."

Hermione didn't say anything. She didn't really understand it either.

Snape studied her. She wasn't a devastatingly pretty witch, and her hair was like a bottlebrush, but she had nice features and expressive brown eyes.

"Hermione, why do you even have a boyfriend?" he asked her.

Hermione looked shocked.

"What?" she responded.

"I asked you why you have a boyfriend. You obviously don't have time for one, not studying for eleven NEWTS," the wizard said. "I read about your curriculum in Hogwarts, a History. Very thorough textbook."

Hermione reddened.

"Ron and I have known each other for years," she said, feeling self-conscious.

"All right. But why is he your boyfriend? You obviously don't need one," Snape said softly, curious about her now.

"I have a boyfriend because—because I want someone to be close to," she replied.

"Oh, I see. Closer than a friend, right?"

"That's right."

"So, are you and your boyfriend close now? With all your studying?"

Hermione frowned at him.

"Why do you care?" she asked him.

Snape shrugged.

"I'm curious about you, that's why. I've never known anyone, witch or wizard that took on as much as you have. It's impossible to be perfect in every area, and since your marks are so exemplary, I figure it's your personal life that has to be suffering. Whatever passes for a personal life. I'm not sure you can even fit that in. Why do you work so hard?"

"I just like it," she responded. "I like to be challenged. The world of magic is so fascinating in all its aspects, I want to know all I can. Everything about it I can," she admitted.

"You're a Muggle-born, aren't you? Like Lily was," he asked her softly.

"Yes, and I didn't know I was a witch until I got my letter," Hermione replied, relaxing a little.

Unlike Lily, Hermione didn't have a Snape to tell her she was a witch. It had been a bit of a shock, but explained a lot of things that happened around her. The children at her school used to call her "Stranger Granger" because weird things happened whenever she was picked on, like the toilets and faucets exploding in the girls' lavatory when she was being bullied by a group of girls, or the teacher's chair suddenly collapsing after he gave Hermione a dressing down for speaking out of turn. It hadn't been easy for her. All she had for comfort and company were her books. In a way, she had been a bit like Severus. But she had Harry and Ron as best friends, and they had remained friends. In Ron's case, they'd become more than friends.

"That explains a lot," Snape said to her.

Hermione noticed that his hair was cut and clean-looking.

"You get a haircut. It looks nice," she said to him. "It's not stringy anymore."

Snape didn't respond to her compliment, instead he said, "Hermione, I still need your help. I need to learn applied Arithmancy for my potions NEWTS. They didn't use it when I went to Hogwarts."

"You want me to tutor you?" she asked him. She was already tutoring too many students as it was.

Snape frowned a bit.

"I suppose I do," he said.

"Well, I can't. I have too many students scheduled in already, besides I only do it on the weekends. You're going to need more time than that," she said.

"Why don't you do it during the week?" he asked.

"Because I do my own work during the week. I have to free myself up for the weekends in order to tutor as many as I do, and make a little social time."

"Very little, I imagine. Look, all I need to see are some examples as to how it is applied. You are taking Advanced Potions aren't you?"

"Yes, but like I said, I don't have time to tutor you."

"Then, let me study and review with you," he pressed. "You won't have to teach me at all. I'll follow what you're doing and catch on that way."

Hermione blinked at him.

"That's impossible. I do all of my studying in Gryffindor tower," she said.

Snape looked a bit shifty now.

"Well, you could study here, in my quarters. Look at all the books. I have titles not even in the Hogwarts library. You can use them as much as you like—here. All you have to do is study with me. You know that the NEWTS give more points for original theories and applications, don't you? I bet you can find something extraordinary in this library, something that will boost your marks even higher. Plus, think of the privacy you'd have here. No one would bother us."

Snape dangled the bait in front of Hermione's nose, noting how her eyes lit up as she looked at all the books surrounding them.

"It was said you never allowed anyone to touch your books when you were a teacher," she said in a low voice.

"I'll allow you to do more than touch them. You can read them. All you have to do is agree to study with me. That's it. My entire library is at your disposal. Just yours. No one else's."

Hermione's brown eyes shifted to the wizard uncertainly.

"Please," he said softly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment.

"I—I'll have to think about it, Severus," she said softly. "Now, I need to go."

Snape walked over to the wall and let it up for her, letting her walk through then following, unwarding the door to his office.

"I'm sure it would be nice to study with someone else, someone just as focused on his work as you are," he told her. "Someone who would work hard without being under duress. Someone who knows how very important it is to do well, who is just as ambitious as you," he said to her as she exited the office.

"Yes, that would be refreshing," Hermione agreed. "But I still have to think about it."

"You do that. But let me know something soon, so if you decide not to work with me, I can arrange something else with someone else. Maybe a Ravenclaw. They're smart students too."

Hermione scowled a little at the idea of someone else having access to those books and possibly beating her out.

"I'll let you know soon," she said a bit coldly, turning and walking up the corridor.

Snape smirked after her, then closed the door.

Hermione wouldn't be able to resist his library.

She'd study with him.

* * *

Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower to find the common room almost empty. Almost, because Ron and Lavender were still playing Snap. She stopped near the door and Ron looked over at her, his blue eyes rather cold. She'd just come back from Snape, someone else she had time for. He looked back at Lavender.

"One more hand, Lavender," he said loudly.

Hermione blinked at him, her eyes filling, then she hurried across the common room and up the stairs to her room.

Ron looked after her, as did Lavender, who turned to him and said, "Hermione looks very upset."

"I don't care if she is," Ron said angrily. "Deal."

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading. Debra had the twins but we can't find the cord to load the pics on my computer so we have to wait until tomorrow. But I'm a grandma for the 9th and 10th time consecutively. Lol. A one-woman population explosion. :)


	17. Memories with a Twist

**Chapter 16 ~ Memories with a Twist**

Snape returned to his quarters after warding the office door securely. He closed the wall behind him and slowly walked around the armchairs and stared down at the silver liquid churning in the small black bowl. His memories. Hermione had delivered.

He sat down in one of the armchairs, feeling his belly knot up as he considered whether or not he wanted to know the secrets he'd shared with Harry Potter. The former Headmaster's portrait had asked him did he want the guilt back. What guilt? Dumbledore was the one who let Lily and her family die. He was the one who promised to protect them, but didn't. And he was the one who turned him into a spy.

Snape's dark eyes reflected the swirling liquid. Had Dumbledore used his guilt to make him a spy? But what could it be? Maybe the knowledge that he was associated with the wizard who killed her. Maybe that was the guilt. But, Snape thought he would feel more anger than guilt. He hadn't pointed the wand after all.

Snape slowly picked up the Pensieve and set it in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he looked down into it.

He was on a windy hill. It was dark and thunder echoed as tree branches whipped back and forth. He saw himself, slightly older, his hair caught by the wind. He was looking around wildly, his wand drawn as he spun. Suddenly a bolt of what appeared to be lightning struck beside him, and Dumbledore appeared, looking both angry and stern as he lit the tip of his wand.

Snape watched himself fall to his knees before the wizard, losing his wand in the process. He looked nearly insane as he stared up at him.

"Don't kill me!" he cried to Dumbledore, terror in his voice.

What? What was this? Why was he so afraid of the Headmaster? But Dumbledore did look cold and terrifying. Not the kind wizard that had walked the halls of Hogwarts handing out lemon drops

"That was not my intention," Dumbledore replied, his robes whipping around him, his face illuminated from below by his wand. He cast a Silencing spell so the noise around them disappeared.

Snape listened to the conversation, unable to move.

"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No—no message—I'm here on my own account! I—I come with a warning—no, a request—please—"

"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"

"The—the prophecy. . . the prediction. . . Trelawney. . . "

"Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything—everything I heard! That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—"

"You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—"

Snape's heart thudded. It was him. He gave Tom Riddle information that made him target Lily for death. Both Lily and her son. It was his fault—all his fault.

Snape felt the guilt Dumbledore had warned him about, uncurling inside him, a misery so all-encompassing, it welled up from his very soul.

"No," he breathed. "Lily—no."

Suddenly everything in the Pensieve froze completely still, Snape's kneeling form staring up at Dumbledore. Snape heard someone approaching.

"Hello, professor. I mean—Severus," a voice said as a person moved into the light from Dumbledore's wand. It was Harry Potter.

"I'm not really here," Harry said, not looking at him because he had no idea where Snape would be standing in the Pensieve as he viewed it. Snape blinked at him. What was this? Why was Harry in the Pensieve?

"But, I thought that you needed someone to fill in the blanks. You're at the part where you find out Voldemort targeted my family because of a prophecy you heard about a boy being born who could one day destroy him. You only heard part of it and told him about it. You didn't know about me, Severus. And there were two boys born on July 31st. Me, and Neville Longbottom. Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed my parents. He told Voldemort when I was born and where my parents were hiding. Without Pettigrew giving him that information, he might have gone after Neville and his parents. It was Pettigrew, my father's own friend, who betrayed them. Not you. And Peter put the blame on Sirius Black, then went into hiding."

Snape stared at Harry. Peter Pettigrew? One of the Marauders? Then he framed Black?

Snape might have laughed if not for what his betrayal led to—Lily's death. So much for all for one and one for all.

Harry continued.

"This Pensieve doesn't have just your memories, but some of mine, too. I know you don't want to talk to me, and I can understand it in a way, but we both were kind of victims in this. I just want to make sure you don't blame yourself for the things that happened. You spent a lot of time doing that. So, you're going to see what I went through to, and it relates to you. I just wanted to—wanted to help. I'll pop up here and there at parts you need to know more about. The Pensieve's going to start again. Hermione helped me to do this. I couldn't have done it by myself."

Snape watched as Harry faded away, then the Pensieve began again. The feeling of guilt had lifted, and he watched the rest of the conversation with Dumbledore.

"If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"

"I have—I have asked him—"

"You disgust me. You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

"Hide them all, then. Keep her—them—safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"Anything."

So, that was it, was it? Dumbledore hid them in exchange for Snape doing a service for him. Some Gryffindor he was. If Snape hadn't agreed to do anything, the Headmaster would have done nothing. In fact, he hadn't done enough even after he agreed to do anything for him.

Suddenly the scene shifted and Snape was in the Headmaster's office. He was dressed in staff robes and beside himself with grief. Dumbledore stood over him with a grim expression on his face, again, looking nothing like the benevolent wizard everyone believed him to be.

"I thought. . . you were going. . . to keep her. . . safe. . . "

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person, rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her? Her boy survives. Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T! Gone. . . dead. . . "

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . "

"And what use would that be to anyone? If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

"What—what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"

"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

"Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter's son. . . I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? If you insist. . . "

Snape listened, affected by his despair at Lily's death, but aware of how he was manipulated by Dumbledore. He'd agreed to protect Harry out of love for his mother. For Lily, but—he didn't want anyone to know it. He was torn because he had hated James so much—maybe if Harry hadn't been his son—it would have been an easier road to take.

Next, Snape saw tidbits of Harry's life before Hogwarts. He was a mistreated boy, barely treated like a human being. The neglect wasn't only physical, but emotional. Petunia and her family seemed to go out of their way to make him feel like less than nothing.

He was locked in a cupboard under the stairs, received less food than anyone else, wore hand-me-downs from his fat cousin, was left behind on family outings and received things like an old sock for birthdays. It would have been kinder to give him nothing at all.

Then there were the flashes of magic common with young wizards that enraged his aunt and uncle. They never told him he had magic. That he was a wizard. They even kept his letter from him, although a great effort was made to get one through. His uncle had run away with him to a broken shack on an island in the middle of a storm to try and keep him from the truth of who he was.

It was cruelty beyond cruelty. And to think, Petunia was Lily's sister. How could she be so hateful to her sister's only child?

Then Hagrid took him and informed him he was a wizard and he arrived at Hogwarts. Then it cut to the first potions class, and how Snape singled him out and embarrassed him, calling him a celebrity in a sneering voice, and telling him fame wasn't everything—"

Snape swallowed as he watched himself berate the first year, feeling ashamed. He must not have known what Harry's life had been like—

Then he was pacing in Dumbledore's office. This was one of his own memories.

"—mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to nd himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent—"

Apparently, he was talking about Harry.

"You see what you expect to see, Severus. Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I nd him an engaging child. Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you?"

Harry's memories appeared again, showing Snape just why Dumbledore wanted Quirrel watched. He was possessed by Voldemort and had nearly killed Harry when the boy tried to stop him from getting the Philosopher's Stone, something that would have brought Voldemort back.

Harry was only eleven years old when he met Voldemort in battle. Only eleven.

Snape had to admit, he was impressed. Very impressed. Harry was nothing but a child. Hermione was a very valuable addition to team Potter. She solved his potions puzzle. And her boyfriend Ron was a decent strategist for one so young.

He saw Harry's other adventures too, and himself speaking up for him when he was accused of petrifying other students. Yes, he did try to protect him in his way, but no one would ever suspect it the way he targeted Harry. Like James had targeted him.

Snape saw Tom Riddle as a young memory, speak through a book, a diary to Harry, drawing him in and giving him tantalizing tidbits about a monster in the school. He shook his head in disbelief when Hermione turned herself into a cat-creature after imbibing Polyjuice potion. She managed to brew it correctly and was only in her second year. That was quite an accomplishment, although he could brew it in his first year.

He watched Harry not only battle and kill a full grown basilisk with nothing but a sword, but also destroy Riddle's memory by driving the basilisk's fang through the book itself. He had been bitten as well, and was willing to die to save the girl in the chamber. He was how old? Twelve? Merciful Merlin.

He then saw a very different Sirius Black. The once handsome wizard was drawn, gaunt and looked quite mad. He had escaped Azkaban and found Peter Pettigrew in the form of a rat hiding right under Harry Potter's nose. Snape wondered if the wizard was loyal to Voldemort, why he didn't kill Harry in revenge? He was around him enough to have done it.

Snape knew why. Pettigrew had always been a coward. Always. Snape heard the entire story of Peter's treachery. Lupin was there, too. They wanted to kill Peter for giving up James and Lily. Snape never thought he'd ever seen anything more satisfying than the three former friends at each other's throats. Then he saw himself with his wand trained on Black. He was going to give him to the Dementors.

"Yes," young Snape breathed, almost unable to contain his continued malice for the dead wizard.

Then Harry, Ron and Hermione blasted him. What? Gods damn it. But, at least he understood why they blasted him. Black was innocent and he was going to give him to the Azkaban guards so they'd suck out his soul. Snape thought he would have done it even if he knew Black was innocent, he hated him so much.

More of Harry's memories were shown.

What? He knew it! He'd told Lily, but she just scoffed at him. Lupin turned into a werewolf in front of Harry, Hermione and Ron. He had been a bloody werewolf all along! He couldn't believe Dumbledore allowed him to stay at the school!

Snape was now glad Harry had added his memories. He thought Lily would have been proud of her son, who managed to show strength and character despite his upbringing. He scowled as he thought of James, how pompous he'd be. Snape thought Harry only came out as good as he did because his father wasn't around to ruin him.

Next, he saw the memories of the Tri-Wizard tournament, and how Harry had been entered mysteriously as the fourth of what should have been three champions. No one believed he hadn't done it himself until it was revealed Alastor Moody wasn't himself. There was a little conversation where Albus suggested he'd been sorted into the wrong house.

Snape snorted. He hadn't been. He was a Slytherin through and through.

What was most horrible was the return of Voldemort, who nearly killed Harry. Again, the young wizard faced him alone, wand to wand, actually forcing Voldemort's power back. But what affected Snape more was the ghostly image of Lily, helping her son escape. He caught his breath as he looked at her pearly image.

He saw how almost everyone refused to believe Harry when he said Voldemort was back. Dumbledore knew, and Harry's friends believed him, but he had a difficult time of it. He was called attention-seeking and mad. Dumbledore as well. But that old wizard was mad as a fox. Hogwarts was placed under Ministry control, a witch named Dolores Umbridge taking over. She was pure evil and toad-like. He watched how she punished Harry for speaking of Voldemort, bloodying his hand with magic as he did lines. It was like a police state. No spells were practiced. There were curfews and searches. Teachers were removed. Hermione arranged for Harry's story to be published in a newspaper, and some people seemed to begin to believe him, but there was an even greater crackdown at the school.

He saw himself refusing to give Umbridge Veritaserum so she could question Harry. Again, he was protecting him.

He smirked as Hermione led Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest and the centaurs took her. That had been quite—Slytherin.

He witnessed the battle at the Ministry and Black's death with satisfaction. Once again Harry had done the impossible and was exonerated when the Minister of Magic himself saw Voldemort before he vanished.

Then, it was his memories again. He was tending to Dumbledore, whose hand was blackened and withered. He had been struck by a deadly curse because—because he had been tempted—but he never said by what. It had to do with a ring. The old wizard was dying.

Snape learned he was to watch and protect Draco Malfoy.

Lucius' son. The reason he'd been offered patronage. Voldemort wanted Draco to kill the Headmaster.

It was then Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him instead.

Snape stared at the scene in silence, then everything froze again and Harry appeared, turned slightly to Snape's left.

"You need to know that you were under an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco. His mother asked you to do it, and for whatever reason, you agreed to do so. If Draco had killed Dumbledore, you would have failed to protect him and you would have died from the vow. We're not sure if that had anything to do with what he asked you, but we think it might have. He wanted you to live, I'm sure of it. Voldemort didn't trust you, Severus. You had to do something to inspire his trust again. Killing Dumbledore was perfect. He was going to die anyway."

Harry faded out again and Snape continued to listen to the conversation, becoming more and more alarmed as Dumbledore revealed that Harry had to die. That he'd been saving him for just this moment.

"That bastard," Snape breathed. "He meant to sacrifice Harry the entire time."

Harry Potter was a Horcrux and as long as he lived, Voldemort would survive. That was what the prophecy meant.

Then, he saw Harry's memories of visiting a cave with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore drinking some potion from a basin of some sort and becoming very ill. It seemed as if he were dying. They found a locket but it wasn't what they were looking for.

There was more, but Snape only focused on himself, pushing Draco out of the way in the Astronomy tower and casting the Killing Curse on the weakened wizard.

Then it was back to Harry's memories again, of leaving the school and seeking out the remaining Horcruxes, Hermione and Ron with him, solving clues. The witch was absolutely brilliant and Snape was sure without her, everything would have been lost. They had been captured and Hermione tortured by Bellatrix. Then they escaped.

The last memory in the Pensieve was the same as Hermione's, of him being bitten by Nagini on Voldemort's orders and being surrounded by a pool of his own blood after giving Harry his memories. Only, Harry seemed reluctant to leave him. It was Hermione's prompting that seemed to pull him away. They had to face Voldemort. Once more the Pensieve froze and Harry appeared.

"Voldemort tried to kill you because he believed you overcame Dumbledore and so had the power of the Elder Wand. But you didn't. Draco was the one who overcame him, and then I overcame Draco. The wand belonged to me. He didn't know, and that's how I killed him in the end. If you hadn't diverted his attention, Severus, nothing would have gone properly. In the end, it was your sacrifice that brought an end to Voldemort. You really are a hero and have nothing to feel guilty about. Not a thing. I—we just wanted you to know this, and know that you really have our respect and gratitude, no matter how much of a git you were to us. It all balanced out in the end. I'm sure my mother—Lily—would have thanked you—so I'm going to say it for her. Thank you."

And Harry faded out for the final time. Snape came out of the Pensieve, looking thoughtful. His incomplete memories would have been devastating if Harry Potter hadn't thought to add more. Or was it Hermione who decided? He wasn't sure, but—

He certainly was grateful.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione walked right past Ron in the common room and out the door to breakfast. He looked after her, his expression troubled.

Ginny was waiting for Harry and saw Hermione stalk by him as if he didn't exist. This wasn't good at all. Her brown eyes narrowed as she saw Lavender Brown get up from the sofa and walk over to her brother.

"Hi, Ron," she said to him.

"Hi," Ron said, still looking after Hermione.

Lavender waved her hand in front of his face.

"I'm over here," she said as he looked at her as if she appeared from nowhere.

"Hi Lavender," he said, his eyes shifting back toward the common room exit.

"Want to walk to breakfast together?" she asked him.

Ron looked at her consideringly.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea, Lavender," he said to her.

"Why not?" Lavender asked him.

"Well, it was fun playing Snap with you last night. It really helped take my mind off my problems, but I don't think it's a good idea that I spend any more time with you. Hermione and I need to settle some things, and I don't think she'd appreciate me spending time with you, because—well you know. We have a history."

Lavender blinked at him.

"A history? All I suggested was walking down to breakfast. We're both going that way," she said to him a bit angrily. "Hermione shouldn't get angry about that. She can't pretend I don't exist."

Ron scowled at her then.

"No, maybe she can't, Lavender, but I can. I see what you're trying to do and it isn't going to work. I'm heading for breakfast. Alone."

With that, Ron walked out of the common room, Lavender glaring after him. So, he'd just used her to make Hermione jealous, then had second thoughts about it. He was a prat.

"Lavender, you leave Ron alone," a voice said behind her. She spun to see Ginny Weasley frowning at her, her brown eyes hard. "I know what you're up to. You're trying to break him and Hermione up so you can get back with him."

Harry walked down the stairs and up to Ginny and Lavender.

"Hi," he said, but was ignored by both witches.

"You must not care much about your brother's feelings, Ginny," Lavender responded.

"I do care about them, which is why I'm telling you to back off," Ginny replied.

Both of Harry's eyebrows rose and he backed away a little, in case Ginny let off a few bat bogeys.

"Don't you see how miserable Hermione's making him? She doesn't care about anything other than showing off how smart she is, Ginny. I watch them. She hardly spends any time with Ron and he's not happy about it."

"That's not any of your concern," Ginny said, although she didn't look very happy about what Lavender said.

"At least if Ron was with me, he'd have a girlfriend who cared about him and would spend time with him, not leave him alone while she got off on her books. I understand liking to learn, but something is seriously wrong with Hermione Granger. She's just not normal, Ginny. Would you treat Harry like that? Would you?"

Lavender was hoping to get a "no" out of Ginny. It would show that she thought Hermione was mistreating her brother.

"I'm not Hermione, Lavender," Ginny replied tightly. "She's always been the way she is, and Ron knows that and likes her anyway. You can't decide what's right and wrong between them, and I want you to leave Ron alone, otherwise you and I are going to have problems. Real problems, Lavender."

Lavender narrowed her eyes at Ginny.

"So, you're fighting Hermione's battles for her, are you?"

"No. I won't be fighting at all if you listen to what I'm telling you. Leave my brother alone. He doesn't need you complicating an already complicated situation. I'm not going to tell you again."

"Fine," Lavender snarled, turning and leaving the common room in a huff.

Ginny looked after her, reaching for her wand. Harry caught her wrist.

"Don't do it, Ginny."

"Just one little bat bogey. I want to plaster it right to the back of her head."

"I think she got the message," he said, smiling at her. Ginny was something else. She was like her mum when it came to her brothers. She'd do anything to protect them.

"Come on," Harry said, giving her a little peck on the lips.

"Let's just go to breakfast."

* * *

A/N: I'm really sorry I couldn't put everything Snape's memories covered in this chapter. I know some of you were probably hoping to read his reactions to things I glossed over. I did use the dialogue from the HBP and DH at some points.


	18. The Bottom Line

**Chapter 17 ~ The Bottom Line**

Everyone in the Great Hall listened carefully to the Headmistress who explained the former professor Snape was technically demoted. He was no longer a teacher, but he wasn't a student either. He was still a Slytherin, but not of Slytherin house so couldn't contribute to winning the House Cup. He would retain his private quarters until the end of term. Wow, an eighteen year old wizard with his own suite of rooms. How cool was that? One could sense the wave of envy that washed over the older students.

"Due to his loss of memory, Mr. Snape will be taking his NEWTS along with the seventh years at the end of term. Although he is no longer a teacher, I expect you to treat him with the respect and regard you show each other," Minerva told them.

Draco snorted. He'd treat Snape precisely how he treated others. No better or no worse.

Hermione listened attentively, Ron's blue eyes resting on her. He needed to talk to her before Saturday. A sullen Lavender sat at the end of the table, brooding because both Ron and Ginny had told her to back off.

Presently, the Headmistress sat down and breakfast resumed. Ron filled his plate slowly, looking across the table at Hermione. Harry nudged him with his elbow.

"Hermione, I want to talk to you," Ron ventured.

"Oh, do you?" Hermione said, not looking at him as she took a bite of her toast.

"Yes. It can't wait until Saturday," he told her. "I want to talk to you before this gets any worse."

"Why don't you talk to Lavender? You were having a good enough time with her last night," Hermione said to him, her brown eyes hard. "I'm sure she'd lend a willing ear, along with a willing everything else."

Harry and Ginny both winced and Ron quickly cast the Muffliato spell.

"Hermione, I was just playing cards with her. Nothing happened," he told her. "She wanted me to walk her to breakfast this morning, but I told her no, Hermione. I knew what she was doing. I don't want Lavender. I just want you."

Hermione stared at Ron for a moment, then her lower lip began to tremble.

"Well, you've been acting so—stupid lately, Ron," she said to him.

Both of Ron's eyebrows rose. He wasn't acting stupid, he was acting jealous. That wasn't necessarily the same thing, no matter how close. But, he wasn't going to argue with her about that.

"I just miss you, Hermione. I want more time with you—I can't help that, and maybe I did get a little 'stupid' when you made time for Snape. But, really I do understand why you're doing what you're doing. It's that soft heart of yours. I just wish it was a little softer towards me."

"Oh, Ron. I told you, after graduation it's going to be different," she said. "The NEWTS will be over and I'll have time for you. All you'll want."

Ron stared at her.

"Hermione, what are you going to after you graduate? What kind of job are you going to go for?"

Hermione looked excited.

"Well, I was going to see if I could have at least two careers. One in Magical Law Legislation, and the other in Charms Research. Possibly I might take up a third career as well. I'm not sure yet, but there are so many exciting options," she said breathlessly.

Ron's heart dropped at her answer.

"I see. And where do I fit in your careers?"

"What are you talking about, Ron?"

"If you're going to be doing all of this work, Hermione, it's going to be just like it is now, with you too busy meeting deadlines to have time for me," Ron said, frowning at her. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life playing second fiddle to your ambitions, Hermione. They don't stop. They just seem to get bigger and bigger. It's like the more you accomplish, the more you want. It's like you don't care about anything else. Not anyone else."

"How can you say that? Of course I care about other people. You and Harry, Ginny, other students. I do my best to be helpful, to make sure all of you are on top of things. I even schedule special time to devote to it."

"I don't mean that way, Hermione. That's just more learning and studying, and you like teaching others and showing off what you know. That's not the kind of care I mean. I'm talking about genuinely caring about how another person feels. You only care about how you feel. I want to—to have something more with you when we leave school. But the way you're planning things, I can't see it happening."

"Ron, I'm not going to do it all right away. It will be a few months at least, while I look for the best job opportunities—"

Ron looked very unhappy.

"Ron, I wouldn't be with you if I didn't care about you," Hermione said to him.

"Just think about how often you really are with me, Hermione. Then, tell me that again," he said softly. "It's one thing to have to step aside for the exams, but it's a completely different story to have to step aside for the rest of my life because you need to be the best at everything."

"That's not why, Ron. I just like to challenge myself, to excel. That's all. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. Plus, it insures I'll have my choice of fields to work in. There's nothing wrong with planning ahead—with having a goal."

"Having a goal means reaching something then stopping. You don't ever plan on stopping Hermione. You're only goal is to keep going, keep reaching. There's no end to it."

"That's not true, there's an end to it, Ron."

"Yeah, when you're dead, probably," Ron said, shaking his head.

The Great Hall was starting to clear out and Hermione had to get to class.

"Ron, we can talk about this more on Saturday," she said to him softly. "You don't have the right of it at all."

"I really hope I don't, Hermione—because if I do—"

Ron didn't finish the sentence, but removed the Muffliato spell and watched as Hermione stood up and hoisted her stuffed knapsack over her shoulder.

"You really don't, Ron. Now, I have to go."

Ron nodded and watched as she walked away. He sat at the table until the Great Hall practically cleared out, feeling miserable. He hadn't meant for all that to come out, but—it just did. And what Hermione had to say wasn't reassuring at all.

****************************************

Hermione left Advanced Transfiguration in a very disturbed mood. She had overheard a Ravenclaw say that she was developing a theory concerning Transfiguration that she was sure was going to boost her marks dramatically. Hermione was upset because she hadn't yet latched on to anything original enough to present at the NEWTS. As far as she could see through her research, most "original" ideas were simply rehashed, rewritten ones.

Still, she couldn't be sure if that was the case with the Ravenclaw. She didn't want to be beat out. As she headed for her next class, she couldn't help but think about Snape's library, the wealth of knowledge that was there. There were books that were centuries old, books that contained rudiments of magic that were probably long forgotten. The bare bones, the building blocks of all that came afterwards. If she could get her hands on that knowledge, she might be able to lock on to something fresh and new, something that would make people stand up and take notice.

She could access that knowledge if she agreed to Snape's offer. It was a wonderful opportunity and an exclusive one. No one else at the school would have such a powerful study resource. Just her. Well, and Snape, but he wasn't taking as many NEWTS as she was, so that wasn't an issue. The real issue was that she needed to come up with at least one original idea or theory, although she'd like to have several for the exams. Eleven, in fact.

Hermione was in a quandary. With Ron exhibiting the feelings he was, he probably wouldn't take her studying with Snape well. She could explain why she wanted to do it, but she wasn't sure he could accept it. Was she really being that selfish? She didn't think so, since she'd been this way since she first started Hogwarts and Ron knew it. Everyone knew it, from staff to students. Why should she change now, particularly at this very important time? If anyone was being selfish, it was Ron.

And her future? What did he expect her to do? It only made sense to want to take advantage of all the open doors that good marks would give her. It was the purpose of getting good marks after all and variety was the spice of life. Plus, she might be able to do something really important for the wizarding world, be known for something other than helping to defeat Voldemort. She could stand out.

Hermione paused for a moment at this thought. Stand out? Was that the real motivation behind all her hard work? To be noticed, to be different? To be seen as someone of real worth?

Yes, it was, but it didn't quite register with her consciously—the Mudblood onus. The belief that Muggleborns were inherently inferior. It wasn't touted as much as it once was, but it was still a part of wizarding society. She was considered the exception, an oddity. At least, that's how it felt at times although she didn't consciously focus on it. But subconsciously, it affected her, and did so to the point that she felt she had to constantly prove herself, constantly show that despite her origins, she was just as talented, just as capable as anyone else. Even more so. It was shaping up to be a battle that she'd fight for all her days on the planet, despite the fact she really didn't need to do it. Anyone with eyes or who could pick up a history book knew Hermione Jean Granger was an extraordinary, talented witch.

Too bad this truth never sunk into her own psyche. Hermione's real problem was that she had a very deep-seated inferiority complex. No matter how much she tutored others, the fact was they were mostly products of a long line of magical beings in whole or at least part, something she could never claim. So, it didn't matter if they weren't as bright as she was, they were part of an elite group of people going back generations. She just—was a new arrival.

It was sad she had this innate, subconscious sense of non-belonging. If she were to apply her logic rather than her emotions, she would see that she was more than a Muggleborn. She would see that she was an Original. A throwback to the beginning. A template for all magical humans that followed and the purest blood there was or ever could be. Her magic didn't come from genetics or traceable bloodlines, but from Creation itself. In her were the powers that made the universe. As a child of the Creator, she reflected those inherited powers directly, like the first witches and wizards to walk the earth.

This was the drive behind all of her studying, all of her focus. Ron could never understand it. He was born a wizard, from wizards. He had nothing he felt he had to prove. But the problem was he chose a witch who felt deep down that she did have something to prove and that simple fact made them basically incompatible as far as what they wanted for the future. Ron wanted a wife, a woman to love who cared about the same things he did. He came from a large loving family, so naturally wanted one. Hermione came from a small family, her parents both dentists with their own businesses, career people. Not that her family wasn't loving, but there was a balance between home life and professional life. Both of her parents worked, while Ron's mother was a homemaker and his father the breadwinner. The loaf was thinly cut, but they'd managed to raise a family this way.

Hermione knew there was more to life than being a wife and mother. Not that she was against it, but it wasn't something she thought about in any great detail. Yes, she did want a family eventually, but after she had made some accomplishments of her own. Being a young mother was most likely out of the question. Maybe later, after she was established. With a two-hundred year lifespan—she had time for that.

Unfortunately, none of this was to the fore. It was something ingrained in her, that she never faced about herself. As such, the potential for heartbreak was strong. She cared for Ron, but there was something inside her that she cared about more. And that was the truth of how it was.

Facing the reality was going to be painful, but necessary.

* * *

A/N: The twins came home today and I didn't have the time or inclination to write, they're so darling. But, I got down to it. A few readers were pressing for an explanation as to why Hermione was so driven for knowledge. I wasn't sure how to approach it, but I did my best. An Inferiority Complex. Even exemplary people suffer from them, and I thought it could be why Hermione worked so hard despite her obvious brilliance. She never seems comfortable with it and is always pushing to learn more and more and show her knowledge in some way. Tutoring probably feeds that need. Again, another transitional chapter, but necessary for the story. It's clear Hermione and Ron are headed for the outs, but I wanted to show why in a way that doesn't make Ron a complete idiot. Actually, I think these are the "real" issues why Ron and Hermione wouldn't make a good couple, despite JKR's epilogue. Thanks for reading. ***


	19. The Inevitable

**Chapter 18 ~ The Inevitable**

For the rest of the week, Ron fell into the old habits of carrying Hermione's arsenal of books to class and eating supper with her, but anyone could see that he wasn't his bright, fun-loving self. There was an air of seriousness around him, and his smiles were smaller and less often.

Hermione felt the difference in him, too, but was sure once they had their hour together they'd straighten it all out.

But, they didn't. They just bickered back and forth almost the entire hour about what was and wasn't important and finally Ron told her what it was he wanted, a wife and mother who would devote time to nurturing and raising a family. He didn't mind if she worked, but she had to work at home too, and show him that there were other things more important than ambition and recognition. Such as love and family.

"In other words, Ron, you want a witch who is like your mother," Hermione said to him.

"No, she doesn't have to be like my mother, Hermione. I know my mum gets wood for cooking and housework and all that. But someone who wants to have a normal home life. Who can balance it out."

"You keep saying 'someone' Ron," Hermione said. "You're not saying 'me.'"

Ron looked at her, his eyes becoming rather wet. "I was waiting to see if you'd say you could be that someone, Hermione. Only you know if you can. If I said it, then I might be pressing you to be someone you aren't—and to be honest, I'm starting to see you that way. It's not bad, but it's not good either. Not for us, Hermione."

Hermione got a cold feeling in her stomach.

"What do you mean, Ron?" she asked him.

Ron took both her hands. They were standing near the lake, the breeze ruffling their hair as they faced each other.

"What I'm saying, Hermione, is that this isn't going to work out for us. We're too different, want different things, find different things important. I know people say opposites attract, and maybe it's true, but it doesn't mean they belong together—"

"Ron, what are you saying?"

"I think you know what I'm saying Hermione, and I think you know I'm right."

Hermione blinked up at him.

"Ron, is this because—because we haven't shagged in a while, because if it is—"

Ron shook his head.

"It could be a little part of it, Hermione, but there are bigger problems that shagging just wouldn't solve. Even if we shagged like bunnies, you'd still be ambitious and I'd still want the things you don't. Sometimes you just have to know when to give up the Queen."

Hermione's eyes began to well up.

"I love you, Hermione, and I think you love me in your way. But it's unfair for me to try and make you change who you are, and if you don't change, it's unfair to expect me to be happy. We need to break up, Hermione. There's really no reason to stay together as boyfriend and girlfriend. It's not going to lead to anything good. But, we'll always be friends. Always."

"Ron," Hermione said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ron's eyes were sad too. He looked at his watch, then at the rise where several students with books were walking toward them.

"Here comes your three o'clock, Hermione," he said, then leaned down and softly kissed her cheek. "I'd better go. I'm sorry."

Ron released her hands and slowly walked toward the approaching students, Hermione looking after him.

It was over. Ron had dumped her.

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, trying not to show how emotional she was as the students each took comfortable boulders and took out their books.

Suddenly, something fluttered around her. It looked like a bat made out of parchment. She tried to catch it, but it darted just out of reach, then came back to aggravate her until she tried to catch it again. She ended up chasing it for a bit, and had to fight the urge to rip it into pieces when she did manage to catch it. Frowning, she opened it up and read the message.

_Hermione,_

_It's been more than a week since I made my offer. I assume you're not interested, so I am going to approach a Ravenclaw named Lisa Turpin, who is taking NEWTS in Advanced Potions._

_SS_

Hermione's mouth dropped open in horror. Lisa Turpin was the Ravenclaw witch who let slip that she was developing a theory to boost her marks. If she got hold of Severus' library—

Her breakup with Ron seemed to fly right out the turret window as Hermione took immediate action.

"I'm sorry but I have to cancel this session," Hermione said to the stunned students, throwing her knapsack over her shoulder hurriedly. "I have to go."

She began running for the castle.

Ron was slowly taking the shifting stairwell upward, feeling as if he had stones sitting in his belly. He and Hermione were no longer involved, not that you could call their relationship "involved" in the first place. From his vantage point he saw the main doors fly open and Hermione run across the entrance hall. He leaned over the rail to see where she was going and she zipped into the dungeon entrance.

She was running to Snape?

Fine.

More than likely the youthened wizard would get any more of her attention than he did after the novelty wore off.

A few of those stones disappeared as he began walking purposely up to Gryffindor tower. He had to let Harry and Ginny know he and Hermione were no longer together that way. It didn't mean he was back on the market. Breaking up with Hermione hadn't been easy and he wasn't looking for an immediate replacement. If there was one positive thing about being Hermione's Granger's boyfriend, you learned how to be patient. He didn't plan on having another girlfriend for a while. He might date a bit, maybe even snog a bit. But as far as committing himself, he wasn't ready to do that right away, and the next time he did, he'd make sure the witch he was attracted to had all her dragons in a proper row.

* * *

Draco was walking up the dungeon corridor and was surprised to see Hermione tearing down it. He stepped aside as she whizzed past, her bushy hair trailing behind her. Draco treated Hermione with more respect after the final battle. They weren't buddies, but he didn't target her. He saw as she slid to a stop in front of Snape's office and began pounding on the door like she was insane.

"Severus! Severus Snape, you open this door right now!" she cried.

Both of Draco's pale eyebrows lifted at the familiarity with which Hermione used the former professor's given name. He watched as the door opened and she disappeared inside.

"Hm. That's interesting," he said to himself, then continued up the corridor.

No one had seen hide or hair of Snape all week. He was busy studying and taking all his meals in his rooms. He didn't have any friends after all. Hermione herself hadn't seen him since the night she gave him the Pensieve. Well, she certainly saw him now.

"What do you mean you're going to contact Lisa Turpin?" she demanded, poking him in the chest with her pointy little finger as they stood in his office.

"Well, you didn't contact me in days. What was I to think? I did my homework and found that she's running a very close second to you in Advanced Potions, according to the last marks I gave her. I can't wait for you to decide when you're going to give me an answer. I need to get to work right away," Snape said before he slapped her hand away.

"And stop poking me."

"Forget about Turpin. I'm going to study with you," she snapped at him.

"Starting when?"

"Monday."

Snape nodded. He knew the weekends she tutored. But, he couldn't help what he said next.

"Do you think you're going to have any trouble with your boyfriend about it?"

Hermione's eyes immediately began to fill as Ron was brought up. Snape cocked his head at her.

"No," she said tremulously. "We broke up."

Snape blinked at her.

"Good," he said shortly, walking through the wall into his study. Hermione followed him, sniffing and frowning at the same time.

"Good? What do you mean good?" she demanded. "I just broke up with my boyfriend. That's not good, that's bad."

"In your case, it's good. You don't need a boyfriend. You need something else," the wizard said, walking over to his liquor cabinet and making himself a small shot of Firewhiskey. Apparently, his palate had matured over the past week. He knocked it back as Hermione scowled at him.

"What are you talking about, something else? What else is there?" she asked him.

Snape put the glass down and looked at her steadily. He was in a set of his heavily buttoned robes and shining boots. He cut a fairly decent figure as he studied the witch.

"Hermione, you don't have time for a boyfriend. You probably won't ever have time for a traditional relationship because it will cut into your plans for your life," he told her, sitting down on the sofa.

"So, what are you saying? That I just need to get used to be alone?" she asked him.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at her.

"No, I'm not saying that at all. You just need to find someone like-minded, someone who's selfishly ambitious."

"I'm not—"

"Trust me, you are. I know because I am, too."

"That's ridiculous."

"Call it what you like, Hermione, but again I say a boyfriend's not what you need—"

"So, oh wizard with all the answers, what do I need?"

Snape looked at her soberly.

"Well, you said you had a boyfriend because you wanted to have someone closer to you than a friend. I assume that means someone to shag—"

"No! It means more that that!" Hermione declared, reddening.

"Did you shag your boyfriend?" he asked.

"That's none of your business! What kind of wizard asks a witch that?"

"A nosey one," Snape replied, "but it does have something to do with the solution to your problem. Did you or didn't you?"

Hermione stuck her nose in the air.

"I refuse to answer that question," she stated flatly.

Snape's dark eyes swept over her.

"You did. If you didn't, you would have just said no rather than make a big production of being outraged by my question," he said. "That's interesting. I wouldn't think you the type, really. It must have been scheduled in."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said whirling as if to leave. Snape stood up.

"Wait," he said softly. "Don't you want to know what it is you need other than a boyfriend?"

Hermione stopped walking. She did want to know what he thought.

"What?" she said, not turning back around.

Snape walked up to her rigid back, leaned over and said softly, "You need a lover."

Hermione whirled back around, facing the wizard.

"A—a lover? A boyfriend is a lover!" she said.

"Not necessarily. A boyfriend can be a lover, but a lover doesn't necessarily have to be a boyfriend. Lovers make no demands on your time or person. You only engage when it's wanted. There is a loose attachment but that's all. It's satisfying but allows you all the freedom you need. I think that would be much better than a boyfriend for you, Hermione."

"Casual sex? That's your answer?"

"It's the closest thing to a tailor-made relationship you're going to get. And it's an acceptable life choice too, one that won't ruffle your Gryffindor sensibilities too much.

"That's—that's no kind of solution," Hermione said as she met his dark eyes.

Snape shrugged.

"For someone who is supposed to be strong on logic, you're a bit thick, aren't you?"

"I'm not thick. I'm—I'm ethical. I have morals and boundaries."

"Yes, and that's going to be a real comfort when you wish you had someone closer than a friend some dark night," Snape replied witheringly.

"Don't you worry about it," Hermione said. "I'll be here Monday evening. And don't you go anywhere near Lisa Turpin."

Snape followed her to the wall.

"You sound quite possessive, Hermione, ordering me not to talk to witches," he purred at her.

Hermione gave him a look of disdain.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm possessive about your library. You promised only I would have access if I studied with you. You're going to make good on that promise. No Lisa Turpin."

Hermione pulled open the office door.

"Wait, Hermione," Snape said, walking up to her.

"What now?" she snapped at him.

"Tell Potter I said 'Thank you.' for the Pensieve," he said quietly. "And thank you, too. Without the narration, it would have been a very unpleasant viewing."

Hermione gave him a small smile now. Harry would be so happy to hear that.

"You truly are a courageous and brilliant witch," the wizard added.

Hermione flushed.

"And Weasley, he's a brave one as well. I can see why you were drawn together, you know, but not everything drawn together should stay together. You're too different from him, Hermione. You're different from everyone you've associated with—until now. Good day."

Snape closed the door and left Hermione standing before it, a slight frown on her face.

What did he mean by that?

Hermione looked down at her watch. It was going on four o'clock and she'd already skived off on one tutoring session. She began to walk quickly to the entrance hall, a smile beginning to form on her face as she realized she had exclusive access to one of the best libraries in the wizarding world. It would be just like Christmas, except for her breakup with Ron.

But still, it felt close.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	20. Team Quidditch

**Chapter 19 ~ Team Quidditch**

Oddly enough, Hermione had scheduled a full three hours of free time for Sunday to spend with her friends. That was more time than she'd given herself with them in ages. Well, it wasn't that odd really, considering she and Ron had broken up and there was some emotional kickback. Scheduling more time than usual fell into that category. It was as if she were trying to prove she did make time for other people without study being involved.

Right now, they were walking toward the Quidditch pitch, Ron, Harry and Ginny carrying their brooms, and Harry with a box under one arm. Hermione had an Advanced Arithmancy book with her to pass the time as they flew about. She didn't like flying. Neither Harry nor Ginny displayed any affection for each other. There was no handholding or waist-holding. It would be awkward in front of Ron and Hermione. They didn't feel comfortable about doing anything that showed they were boyfriend and girlfriend when Ron and Hermione were not. They had gone from two couples to the Trio plus one again.

Hermione cleared her throat and everyone looked over at her.

"You're not going to see much of me during the week," she said softly.

"We don't see much of you during the week anyway," Harry said, as Ron and Ginny looked at her curiously.

"I know, but I'm going to start taking my meals in so I can work through them rather than waste time sitting in the Great Hall. I can eat and study and better utilize my time," she said, trying not to look at Ron. "So I won't be coming to breakfast, lunch or dinner."

"Not even lunch, Hermione?" Ginny asked her. "It seems you would do lunch because you'd have to go all the way to Gryffindor tower and then back down for class. That seems like extra work."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, and Ron's eyes instantly grew suspicious.

"What aren't you telling us, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione drew in a deep breath.

"I'm not going to be in my room, at least not after breakfast. I've—I've made arrangements to study with Severus until it's time to take the NEWTS," she explained. "So, I'll be going to his quarters during lunch and after classes."

"I thought you didn't have time to take on another student," Harry said as Ron just looked at her.

"Well, I'm not actually going to be tutoring him, Harry. Tutoring is actually teaching. He's going to be studying with me and learning that way. I'm going to be doing what I usually do, work, and he's going to learn by doing what I do. By example. He only needs to work on his Arithmancy in relation to Potions."

"Then why are you going to spend all that time in his rooms?" Ron asked her coolly.

"His library," Hermione said dreamily as if she were in love. "He has the most amazing library. The walls are covered floor to ceiling with titles you can't find anywhere else. I'll have full access to them in exchange for studying with him. Think of all the forgotten knowledge I'll be able to rediscover. My NEWT scores will be off the parchment."

Ron blinked at her, then shook his head. He could see her making an arrangement like that for access to Snape's books. They really weren't going to see much of her now. Ron realized the only reason Hermione probably even went to meals was because of him. So, she had made some small effort. But now she was free to prepare for the NEWTS the way she'd like.

"Hermione," he said, "one day your brain is going to swell up with so many facts and figures, your head is going to explode."

Hermione gave him a little smile. The wisecrack reminded her of how he used to be, before they were involved. He'd always comment about how she was going to bust in some manner because of all she knew.

"I'll be fine," she said as they walked across the Quidditch pitch. Hermione walked toward the stands as Ron and Ginny waited for Harry released a Snitch, a specialized Quaffle and Bludger. The Quaffle was made for casual Quidditch games involving less than a full team of players. It would fall extremely slowly if not caught or thrown. This way, the game could keep going without having to retrieve it from the ground all the time.

Hermione got comfortable as the three of them took off with a whoop, playing three-man Quidditch. It was a lot of fun because it was every witch and wizard for her or himself.

Hermione stuck her nose in the book and it stayed there for about fifteen minutes before she was disturbed by a familiar voice.

"You really do study all the time, don't you?" Snape asked her.

Hermione looked at him wide-eyed. He was hovering in front of her on a beautiful black Firebolt, his head cocked. He was dressed impeccably in black, button-down robes and shining black boots. His collar-length hair wasn't the least bit greasy-looking either.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked him.

Snape looked at her as if she were stupid. He was sitting on a broom after all.

"I think that's rather obvious," he replied, then looked up at Harry, Ron and Ginny. None of them had noticed him yet. Then he looked back at Hermione.

"Why aren't you flying?" he asked her.

"I don't fly," she responded. "I don't like it."

"Oh," Snape said, looking up as Ron grabbed the Quaffle out of the air and flew toward the three goals. "Excuse me."

Hermione watched as Snape zoomed underneath Harry, Ginny and Ron, then shot up vertically, catching the Quaffle before it went through the goal.

"Hey!" Ron yelled as Snape threw it through himself.

"I believe that's a point for me," Snape purred at him as both Ginny and Harry pulled up. All four young people hovered, Hermione watching them and wishing she could be up there to hear what was going on.

Harry eyed his broom.

"Wow, that's a really nice broom," Harry said to the wizard, who stared at him.

"I know," Snape replied.

There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence that followed for several moments.

"Want to join in?" Harry asked him as Ginny zoomed down to retrieve the Quaffle. "We can have teams. You and Ron against me and Ginny."

Snape eyed Ron as if trying to decide if he'd be a worthy teammate.

"I suppose, if he can keep up with me."

"I can keep up, don't worry and don't drop the Quaffle," Ron said, wanting to add it was completely possible with his greasy mitts, although Snape didn't look greasy at all. It was—habit.

Ginny came back and Harry told her they were teams now. Ginny looked at Snape and gave a wicked grin.

"Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. I like that," she said.

Snape gave her a measuring glance, and realized this was the same witch that Harry had saved in the Chamber, only older. She was quite close to Harry. Apparently, heroism paid off.

"Hey! This team's only half Slytherin," Ron objected. "Gryffindor's the better half."

"Oh. Really, Weasley?" Snape asked him softly.

"Really."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. There wasn't going to be much teamwork between Snape and Ron. More like competition.

"All right," Ginny said, "Let's go."

And she tossed the Quaffle as high as she could.

Ron, Ginny and Harry took off after the Quaffle, but Snape didn't. He caught a glint of gold and took off for the Snitch. Harry and Ron saw him and took off after him, leaving Ginny with the Quaffle.

"Hey! One of you is supposed to go for the Quaffle points!" she yelled after Snape and Ron.

But both wizards were clearly going for the Snitch points. Add Harry to the mix and it was a merry run, Snape zooming out in front, Harry and Ron right on his bristles, the wind whipping through their hair.

Suddenly Snape dipped downward and Ron jerked his broom aside as the Bludger zoomed through their midst, trying to unseat them. It turned and headed back as they pursued the Snitch, Snape looking over his shoulder at the little iron ball from time to time.

Meanwhile, Ginny was hovering by the goal, passing the Quaffle through the ring over and over.

"nine…ten…eleven . . ." she said, counting off the points she was making.

Hermione watched as Harry, Snape and Ron did their best to catch the Snitch, bumping and shouldering each other and changing directions, stopping midair as they lost sight, then taking off again. Suddenly, Ron let out a shout and was dangling from his broom by one hand. The Bludger had got him. He tried to pull himself up.

Suddenly, his feet had purchase. Snape had flown under him and Ron was standing on the wizard's broom handle. Snape slowly rose until Ron could get back on his broom.

"Thanks," he said to Snape, who nodded and flew off after Harry. But he was too late. Harry had the Snitch and held it up victoriously.

"One hundred and fifty points for us!" he cried out as Snape frowned.

"Two hundred and fifty-six points actually," Ginny said, flying up with the Quaffle tucked in the crook of her arm. "That's how many times it went through the goal while all of you were chasing the Snitch."

"That's why Slytherins aren't big on teamwork," Snape said, looking at Ron as if he'd purposely fallen off his broom so they'd lose. "There's usually a price to pay when looking out for someone other than yourself."

Ron scowled at him, but Harry said, "Still, you did it, didn't you? You could have let him fall."

If Ron had fallen, Hermione would have saved him before impact. That was her usual role when she accompanied them. They'd shout at her and she'd look up from her book, cast the spell, then return to her reading. She wasn't allowed to help them back on the broom though. That would be cheating.

"I could have," Snape said with a shrug. Then, "Another game?"

"Sure," Harry said, releasing the Snitch.

* * *

Snape, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione walked back toward Hogwarts. Hermione was very quiet, as was Ron. Snape walked next to Harry, a bit ahead of them, talking in low tones.

"I thought I had it hard at Hogwarts," Snape said, glancing sidelong at Harry. "It's clear you had a much harder time of it than I did. Death wasn't waiting for me at every turn, just annoyances."

That was putting it mildly. The Marauders were more than annoying. They tormented him. Still, they were a far cry from possessed teachers, basilisks and Dark Lords bent on killing you.

"I'm sorry for what my father did to you," Harry said softly. "I really am, Severus."

Snape didn't answer this. Harry could never apologize for James Potter's actions, try as he might.

"It's better we don't talk about your father," Snape replied, an added hint of malice on the word "father."

"All right," Harry said, and silence fell between them for the rest of the way to the castle.

They went inside and stopped in the entrance hall. Passing students looked at them curiously. Snape was rarely seen. He looked at Harry, Ron and Ginny.

"You're passable flyers," he said shortly. "Perhaps, next weekend I'll give you all a few lessons."

"What?" Ron said, frowning at him.

"Particularly you, Weasley. You fall off your broom so much, I started to suspect the handle was greased."

Harry and Ginny chuckled. They knew Snape was just ribbing them about their flying, but Ron had slipped a few times, more than usual because he was so competitive against Snape.

"What? Why you—just wait until next weekend. I'll show you—"

Snape smirked, then his black eyes rested on Hermione.

"I'll see you Monday evening?" he asked her.

She nodded.

"The library will be waiting. Good day."

And with that, Snape billowed down the narrow staircase that led to the dungeons.

"Well, that wasn't half bad, was it?" Harry asked Ron, who was frowning after Snape.

"He thinks a lot of himself, I'll tell you that," Ron muttered. "Teach me to fly—hmmph. Prat."

Harry laughed.

"Well you did a lot of slipping, Ron," he said as they all began to walk up the stairs, Hermione still very quiet.

"He caused most of it, cutting me off and leading the Bludger toward me so I had to keep ducking. He wasn't being much of a team player."

"Neither were you, Ron. You didn't win a single game because you both kept going after the Snitch. The Quaffle gives points, too. One of you should have been playing against me. Those were the easiest points I've ever made. You even caught the Snitch but lost because I made two hundred points with the Quaffle while you were both chasing it."

"Next time, we'll just play four-man Quidditch, with everyone out for themselves," Harry said. "That way Ron and Snape can clash all they like and you and I can wrack up the points, Ginny."

"Sounds like a plan," she grinned at him.

"I've got to get to work," Hermione said suddenly, pushing past them and hurrying up the stairs.

"All right, Hermione. We'll see you later," Harry called after her.

"Bye, Hermione," Ginny called as well.

Ron didn't say anything. Their last goodbye was still good.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	21. Afterthoughts

**Chapter 20 ~ Afterthoughts**

Hermione felt a little out of sorts as she returned to Gryffindor tower. She didn't know why she felt this way, such a sense of—of resentment. As she walked, it came to her, as terrible as it was. She was out of sorts because Severus had taken an interest in Harry and Ron. She shouldn't feel that way, but she did. Up to this point, she'd felt rather special being the only student that interacted with him, despite him acting an arse much of the time. It was unsettling to see him getting along with Harry, and Ron to some degree although it was clear that the two were having a kind of pissing contest.

It was selfish of her to feel like the wizard was her territory. He wasn't. Yes, she had been the first to reach out, but Harry had made an effort too, finally breaking through when he added his memories to the Pensieve. Hermione felt completely left out as they played Quidditch. She'd never felt like that before, and it was because of Snape.

"I'm being silly," she told herself as she gave the Fat Lady the password.

She should be happy about this development. Snape and Harry could finally be—well—friends, something Harry had wanted since discovering the dark wizard's role in protecting him, and something the elder Snape wanted nothing to do with. He had disliked Harry for so long, it was impossible to change his feelings toward the young wizard.

The fact was, now, without the preconceptions of his past adult life, it was easier for Snape to accept Harry, especially when he saw the harsh life the young wizard had lived through. He hadn't known much kindness before Hogwarts, and then he was thrust into a world he knew nothing about, a world full of danger at every turn. Completely unprepared, he stood up to what he had to face and overcame it.

Harry Potter had been set up to die from the moment he survived Voldemort's curse. But he didn't lie down and do it. He would have been willing to, but Snape's part in loyally protecting him all those years, then nearly making the greatest sacrifice of all insured he did win. They had been partners in Voldemort's downfall and never knew it. Well, Snape knew it now. They both did. And that made their association possible and—special.

Snape was solitary by nature, Lily having been the only friend he associated with intimately, but he saw the closeness of Harry and his two friends. He had others he associated with, but the boy's circle was close—small. He was very much in line with Snape as far as that went. So, he did join them and it wasn't too bad at all, once he got past how much Harry looked like James. It was only his eyes that made him bearable. Lily's eyes. Something Snape could relate to besides his paternity. Something he could—accept.

Harry Potter just wasn't his father's son; he was Lily's son, too. This time around it was his connection to Lily, not James that helped shape Snape's decision to give him a chance.

He wasn't the least bit interested in forming any friendships with any of the other students. He felt because he used to be a teacher, and because he didn't have a real position in Slytherin house, he should be aloof, and careful. Based on how he was as a teacher, there could be a few students that had it in for him. Not that he was really worried about it, but he felt it would be better to stay to himself, take his NEWTS and move on.

He didn't stand an iceball's chance in hell of having a normal final term at Hogwarts anyway. He would be seen as little more than a curiosity by the students, and they would know more about him than he knew about himself. He'd rather not give them that advantage if he could help it. No, solitude was the better option, with a little interaction with Potter and his friends for respite.

Hermione entered her room, took out her books and went to work. It was rather hard to concentrate, but she managed to push away her negative feelings by thinking about all the wonderful books she'd have access to tomorrow evening. Plus, she would have Snape all to herself.

She wasn't sure how good that would be, really, but at least she could keep feeling "special."

She needed that, especially since she no longer had a boyfriend. Having Ron made her feel like a "normal" witch in some aspects. It was something she shared with other witches, something they could understand. It was almost as if Ron validated her in some manner, made her more acceptable to her peers, despite her brilliance. Now, he was gone and she was back to being the over-achieving "know-it-all."

But, she'd get through it.

She always did.

* * *

"A special dispensation, Severus?" Minerva asked the pale wizard sitting in front of her desk. "Whatever for?"

Snape had contacted her after supper via the Floo to ask if he could have a word with her. Normally, an appointment had to be made for late visitations, but the Headmistress had seen so little of her former professor, that she told him to come to her office directly. Now he sat before her desk asking for a special allowance. Albus' portrait was noticeably empty.

"Well, there have been some changes in the curriculum, changes that could affect my NEWT marks. I've managed to secure a study partner to help me with the new requirements, but I think we will need more study time. We'll be studying in my rooms, and I'd like to have an additional two hours past curfew in order to greater utilize our time together."

Minerva frowned slightly.

"What is your focus, Severus?" she asked him.

"Arithmancy has been utilized with potions. When I attended Hogwarts, it wasn't. I did well in Arithmancy, but only received an "Acceptable." It wasn't my main focus. Now, I need to bone up on it."

"But that's only one subject, Severus. Surely you don't need all that time," the witch countered.

"But I do. You see, part of the agreement is that my library will be available to my study partner. The extra time will be used for that," he replied.

Minerva nodded. Snape's library would be of great help to anyone studying for the NEWTS. She pulled a parchment toward her.

"Very well, Severus. I will extend the curfew for your study partner from nine to eleven on the weekdays and until one on the weekends," she said, writing on the parchment with her quill. "Now, who is your study partner?"

"Hermione Granger," he replied.

Minerva's quill faltered as she stared at the wizard.

"Hermione Granger?" she repeated.

Snape nodded.

"Yes," he replied.

Minerva frowned slightly. For some reason, she had assumed his study partner would be male. Severus had his own private quarters. Hermione Granger being alone with him at such a late hour hardly seemed—well—seemly. The fact that she would be in his quarters at all, without supervision was an issue, although Hermione had every right to be. There were no restrictions on whom Severus could have in his rooms. Still—

"Severus, I'm not sure if—" she began

Snape frowned at her.

"Don't tell me that my study partner being a female makes a difference, Headmistress," he said, his expression disdainful. "She's going to be helping me. Nothing more."

Minerva looked at him, torn. Severus was already at a disadvantage, not being familiar with the curriculum changes. Her denying him would just add to the problem. Besides, she had already said she would give the dispensation.

"No, it doesn't, Severus," she said heavily, adding Hermione's name to the parchment, and then sliding it over to him. "I'll let Filch know about the dispensation."

Snape tucked the parchment into his inside pocket and rose.

"Thank you, Headmistress," he said with a little bow, then headed for the Floo.

"Severus?"

He turned back toward Minerva.

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"How—how are things for you?"

Snape considered.

"They are fairly well. I have no complaints," he replied.

Minerva was hoping for a little more about how he was adjusting, but she remembered how he was as a teen. He never offered more than was necessary.

"Good. You may go," she said.

"Thank you," he replied, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and tossing it into the flames of the fireplace. They turned green.

"My quarters," he said, then stepped through.

Albus' image returned to the portrait.

"He's chosen an excellent study partner," the portrait said.

Minerva nodded.

"Yes, but—they're going to be alone together, Albus," she responded, looking troubled.

"And why is that a problem?"

Minerva shrugged.

"It's just that they're both so young, and you know how hormonal teenagers can be. With his own quarters—"

"Minerva, you can't hope to curtail what's been happening between men and women from time immemorial," the portrait said. "Don't concern yourself. They are both over the age of consent. Besides, Miss Granger is very focused on her NEWTS. She's taking eleven of them, isn't she?"

"Yes," Minerva responded.

"I doubt she has time to think of anything other than preparation. And if she does, then that is really her affair, Minerva. You did the right thing," the portrait told her.

"I hope so," Minerva replied. "I really do."

* * *

Snape returned to his quarters and placed the dispensation on his desk. He'd give it to Hermione tomorrow evening. It should be quite the surprise. He then turned to the project he was working on and pulled out his wand, adding a few final touches. He stepped back and studied his work, quite satisfied with it.

It was really a work of art and should make studying much easier on the both of them.

Maybe he should think about patenting it.

That done, he fixed himself a small Firewhiskey, appreciating the burn as he knocked it back. He'd only take one an evening. It relaxed him, but he wasn't interested in becoming inebriated. He liked keeping his wits about him.

Now, it was time to work on his little side project. He magically removed his robes, stood in the center of his study and relaxed, focusing on centering himself. This was something he'd been working on since he was fifteen. He hadn't yet seen results, but if those idiot Marauders could pull it off, so could he.

He just had to continue to apply himself.

He stood there, trying to release what was inside him, the natural side, the primal part of himself. Once again he felt the world bend around him for an instant and prayed that this time, this time something would happen—

Again, he was disappointed and stopped. He wasn't supposed to force it. It had to happen naturally.

He'd try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.

He'd keep trying until he got it right.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	22. A Change

**Chapter 21 ~ A Change**

True to her word, Hermione didn't attend breakfast the next morning. Ron felt rather strange not seeing her at the table, but she did show up for lunch claiming it would be her last time doing so during the week. She would schedule it in on the weekends, and/or supper too as part of her "social time."

As she ate, Hermione wore an excited look on her face that wouldn't go away. It was clear to see that accessing Snape's library was the foremost thing on her mind. She didn't even seem to be sad about breaking up, at least not to Ron.

"I can't wait for the day to end, Ginny," she gushed. Ginny gave her a small smile, then looked at Ron, who didn't react at all.

Word of the break-up made its rounds of Hogwarts rather quickly. Not only was Lavender Brown very pleased about this development, but so were several other witches who thought Ron was cute. Plus, he was a famous hero. Who didn't want to go out with a hero? Not one of them realized that Ron wasn't interested in hopping back on the dragon yet, but they gave him some space—for now. It was bad form to zoom in on a wizard right after a breakup. Breakup etiquette dictated one should wait at least a week to make her move, so as not to appear to have had her eye on the wizard the entire time he was dating someone else. Which, incidentally, was usually the case.

Hermione didn't have one wizard looking at her as possible girlfriend material. It was plain to see she had given Ron next to no personal time. What good would she be as a girlfriend if she didn't have time to snog or shag?

Not much. As far as the Hogwarts males went, it wasn't even worth the effort.

Hermione wolfed down her food, grabbed her bulging knapsack and said goodbye to everyone, Ron looking after her as she toted the heavy bag of books out of the Great Hall. It felt odd watching her leaving, carrying them herself. It was a good thing she was used to doing it. That knapsack was quite heavy.

"Feels a little strange, Hermione leaving—doesn't it, Ron?" Harry said to him quietly, noticing Ron's eyes resting on the doors Hermione just walked through.

"A little," Ron said. "She's going to end up looking like a hunchback if she continues to carry around all those books. Her knapsack looked heavier than ever."

"That's because she has double editions. She's going to leave them in Snape's quarters," Ginny explained. "She told me this morning."

"Oh," Ron said shortly, picking up a treacle tart and biting into it.

"I don't understand why she doesn't just miniaturize them," Harry said.

"Because constant resizing ruins the books," Ron said. "Hermione found that out ages ago when she discovered the library books had an anti-shrinking charm on them. Madam Pince explained how shrinking and expanding put additional stresses on the bindings, pages and print. It makes them become brittle and almost unreadable in a short period of time. You know Hermione loves books, so she stopped using the spell on any of them."

"That makes sense, I guess," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah," Ron replied, still looking toward the doors.

This was going to take some getting used to, for him at least. More than likely, all Hermione was feeling right now, was her freedom.

* * *

As soon as the last class let out, Hermione fairly flew down to the dungeons, shouldering through students getting out of Potions class and stopping in front of Snape's office, pounding on the door.

It opened, and Snape looked out at her with a slight frown.

"I know you're here to study, but that's no reason to try and beat in my door," he said snidely.

Hermione pushed the door wider and slid by him, completely ignoring his snideness. She walked straight through the open wall and into his quarters. Snape stared after her, reminded a little bit of Lily, who also used to disregard what he had to say and did what she wanted anyway. She got away with it because he was smitten with her. Hermione got away with it because she was smart and he needed her.

He closed the office door and warded it, then entered his quarters, closing the wall behind him. He found Hermione standing in the center of the room, her knapsack on the floor next to her, staring at what he'd created.

"What's that?" she asked him.

"The ultimate study table," Snape replied. "I made it so our study time will be comfortable.

Hermione stared at the long desk Snape had built. Along the top of it were cubby-holes in which were parchment paper, ink, quills, blotters, Muggle pens and pencils and magical erasers, all within reach. There was ample writing space and wide arms on the right and left on which to pile books. But the most amazing thing was the mirrors. He had arranged a number of angled mirrors under the cubby holes that pointed to a straight mirror running the length of the table.

"What are the mirrors for?" she asked.

"Sit down on the right and open a book," Snape said. He watched as Hermione withdrew a book and walked up to the desk. Two cushioned wooden chairs were there, and Hermione pulled one out and sat down. Snape sat down in the chair next to hers. She placed her book on the desk top, then gasped as her open book's image appeared directly in front of Snape as if projected on a screen. He pulled out his wand and tapped the mirror, and the book was magnified.

"I can see whatever you're working on without leaning over your shoulder and crowding you," he told her. "I hate being crowded when I'm working. I'm sure you share the sentiment."

Hermione nodded.

"This is marvelous. I've never seen anything like it. You—you came up with this design yourself?" she asked him, impressed.

"No. I had a battalion of construction wizards working on it night and day," he responded snarkily, then added, "Of course I came up with it myself. It was necessary. I want our study time to as painless as possible."

Hermione frowned at him.

"I hope you don't plan on being a sarcastic prat the entire time we study together. You might think it's witty, Severus, but to me it's annoying as well as tiresome," she told him flatly. "Three months of that tosh will drive me crazy. So, tone it down now. All right?"

Snape frowned back at her.

"The definition of sarcasm, Hermione, is intellect on the offensive. I use it in response to incredibly stupid questions and actions. It's my way of protecting my brain from going into meltdown when confronted or attacked by extreme idiocy. So, when you talk to me, please frame your statements with some modicum of good sense. You knew I designed this desk. Asking me if I did was stupid, annoying and a waste of time."

"I was just trying to get some background on it," she snapped at him, turning red.

"Then just ask for the background," he sniped back at her. "Don't dance around what you want to know."

Hermione's face went black for a moment. Was this really worth it? Severus was nearly unbearable. Then her brown eyes swept over all the beautiful books she'd have access to if she just worked through this, and she sighed with resignation. Nothing good was ever easy.

"Fine," she said. Enough about that. Now, do you want to start out with Potions?"

"Is that what you normally start out with?" he asked her.

"No, not exactly. First I study the syllabus in advance. I like to stay at least two weeks ahead of my assignments. I start with my reading, then essays, then written work, then problem-solving, wand work, then Arithmancy and Potions last. I imagine making time to read your books will drop me down to a week ahead, but it will still be worth it."

Snape just stared at her. She was ahead two weeks in her studies with all the classes she was taking? That was just – insane. But as he thought about it, it did give her a lot of wriggle room if she needed to stop studying for any reason. Maybe it wasn't that insane after all.

"Well, I don't want you to change your study habits. Just let me know when you're about to work on something that pertains to Arithmancy and Potions. Otherwise, I'll work on my own reviewing. All I ask is that you do some Arithmancy and Potions work every day so I'm not wasting my time."

"Fair enough," Hermione said, retrieving her knapsack and setting up for study. She noticed Severus got up, not getting anything out. Instead, he took off his robes and stood in the center of the room, taking a deep breath. Hermione tried to focus on setting up, but couldn't help glancing over at him. He took several more breaths, then fell very still, looking expectant. He was dressed in a nice white shirt, a green and silver tie, black trousers, shiny black boots and wore a belt with a Slytherin buckle. He was lean and everything fit perfectly as if tailored for him.

Hermione sat down and opened her Transfiguration book, but she could feel Snape, just standing there, breathing evenly, a sense of expectation heavy in the air.

Finally, she couldn't hold in her curiosity.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

Snape turned her way, looking exasperated.

"You broke my concentration!" he snarled at her.

"What? What are you doing?" she asked him again.

"I'm trying to find my animal form, if you must know. In that Pensieve I saw Black could turn into a dog, although that was really no surprise considering his personality, and Peter could turn into a rat. I've been trying to find my form since my fifth year, but seeing those idiots do it has just renewed my determination. I'm sure I have a better form than a filthy rat or a flea-bitten mongrel. James probably had a form, too."

"He did," Hermione said softly. "His Animagus form was a stag."

Snape stared at Hermione, his black eyes widening in understanding and he slumped a little.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, seeing the change in his demeanor.

Snape's dark eyes rested on Hermione, and she could clearly see the pain in them.

"Lily's Patronus," he said softly. "It—it was a doe. The mate of a stag."

Hermione nodded.

"I never stood a chance with her. I can see it now. That Patronus proves it."

"You had a doe for a Patronus too," Hermione said quietly.

"How do you know that!" he demanded. "I never showed anyone that!"

"You sent it to Harry so he could find the sword of Gryffindor when you were an adult, that's how I know," Hermione said. "Still, you shared a Patronus with Lily. That had to mean something—"

"It meant that I was smitten. A doe can't mate with a doe. They could never be together. I should have realized that," he hissed. "James was a stag. That was a physical manifestation of the magic they shared between them. A sign. If I had known that—maybe I could have let Lily go—inside. I wouldn't have clung the way I did, even after she abandoned me. She must have always been attracted to James Potter—"

Snape's face screwed up at the thought.

"And she ended our friendship so she could be with him—"

"Maybe she did it to spare your heart, Severus," Hermione suggested softly. "She knew how much you hated him. Maybe she thought that it would be better, less cruel, to end your friendship, rather than keep it and be with James."

"It didn't help. My heart felt as if a sword was being run through it every time I saw them together. I might have—have done harm to myself if not for Tom Riddle's interest in me. He helped me to focus on other things, and promised me that I'd have another chance with Lily—but it's clear now that I never would, even if she had lived. She wasn't meant for me."

Snape straightened, his face becoming black.

"So, Potter was a blasted stag was he? I bet one with beautiful antlers, fast and sleek. Something—something wonderful. He was always seen as so bloody wonderful, when he wasn't! He was a coward and a bully. Too bad someone didn't take him down when he was in his Animagus form and make a nice, thick venison stew out of him!" Snape fumed as Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. He was filled with such hatred.

Suddenly Snape began to shudder, anger, pain, loss, all combining, taking over his mind, his logic. Hermione stared at him.

"Are you all right?" she gasped, rising from her chair and starting to walk toward him. She became alarmed when his eyes rolled up into his head. He seemed to be having some kind of seizure.

"I'll call Madam Pomfrey!" she cried, running toward the Floo.

"NO!" Snape screamed at her, the world bending around him, everything twisting. "No, don't do anything!"

He could feel it was happening. It was finally happening. He just had to go with it, let those primal feelings take over.

Hermione froze as Snape's body began to morph, and he transformed into his Animagus form.

Hermione stared at the creature standing before her. It was unbelievable. She had heard of this beast but never seen one before.

It was—beautiful.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	23. Experimenting

**Chapter 22 ~ Experimenting**

Snape stood there a moment, then arched his neck downward, turning his head completely upside down as he examined one outstretched white wing. He twisted his head and neck to look at the other. Then he straightened and turned his head backwards to look at his back, hindquarters and long tail tipped in tufted gold. Then he straightened and looked at Hermione, his liquid black eyes shining and he let out a screech.

"Oh my gods. Your Animagus form is a gryffin, Severus! You're—you're beautiful.

Snape blinked at her, then outstretched his wings to their full extent and let out a cry of victory. Then he spun and ran into his bedroom, followed by Hermione. The transformed wizard stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, examining his form.

He was snow white, accented with gold on his curved, predatory beak, which actually looked a lot like his real nose. He had almost catlike ears, tufted with white fur, and a fierce expression. His front half was covered in glistening white feathers, his wings sprouting from his shoulders. His back half was that of a lion, the fur of purest white. His claws and talons gleamed and he was able to grab forward with his front legs easily, the talons making the sound of metal striking metal when they clashed together. He turned several times, his neck feathers ruffling with pride at his appearance.

He then walked up to Hermione. Standing at full height, the gryffin was full head taller than she was. He made a kind of chuffing sound as he looked at her.

"It's the most amazing Animagus form I've ever seen. Hagrid is going to blow a torch if he ever sees you," she said, amazed. Suddenly, Snape was standing in front of her. He wore a full smile. His teeth were crooked, but it was a very nice smile.

"I did it," he said, looking at Hermione. "I did it. I found my form and it's better than any of the Marauders. Hell, I could have ripped any of them into pieces. I could have attacked from above!"

Hermione frowned.

"Um, I don't think so, Severus. You're not really a gryffin. It's doubtful you can fly," she told him.

"Sirius could bark and howl couldn't he? James could leap through the forest. Why do you think I can't do what comes naturally to gryffins if I'm in that form?"

"It just doesn't seem feasible."

Snape blinked at her, then walked to his wardrobe and grabbed his broom.

"I'm going to find out," he said, walking out of the bedroom, followed by Hermione. "You can stay here and study, or read my books or whatever you want to do."

Hermione looked at the library, then at Severus who was striding toward the door. His library was exciting, but this—this was even more exciting. Could he really fly?

"Wait! I want to come with you! I want to see if you really can fly in your Animagus form," she said.

"The only way you can come, Hermione is if you fly. I don't want to waste precious time walking across the grounds," he said.

"Fly? But—but I don't even own a broom, Severus. And you have to get advanced permission to use one of the school brooms."

Snape studied her. She looked disappointed.

"You can fly with me if you really want to see what I can do," Snape offered.

Hermione hesitated a bit too long.

"Well, you can't say I didn't offer. Leave me a Pensieve of your Arithmancy studies," he said as he opened the wall and quickly exited. He didn't even put on his robes.

Hermione stood there for a moment, then ran out after him. She was slowed because she had to close the wall and then ward his office. She ran up the dungeon corridor and saw Snape disappearing up the dungeon stairwell that led to the entrance hall.

* * *

Ron was on his way up the marble staircase when he saw Snape emerge from the dungeon, carrying his Firebolt and immaculately dressed in a tie, white shirt, black trousers and shining boots. Wasn't he supposed to be studying with Hermione? Where was he going? He walked out of the double doors onto the grounds. Then, Hermione ran out of the dungeon stairwell and out the door, too.

"What's going on?" Ron wondered, hurrying back down the stairs and opening the doors, looking outside.

"Wait! Severus, wait!" Hermione cried as he mounted the broom. He looked up at her, then slid back.

"Get on," he said. "Side-saddle."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then got on the broom. Snape pulled her back roughly against him.

"You have to stay close so I can keep my balance," he said softly, then wrapped both arms around her, grasping the broom handle.

"Now hold on," Snape said, zooming off, Hermione letting out a shriek.

Ron stood on the steps of the castle, unable to believe what he was seeing, Hermione letting Snape fly with her. She never let him do that. She said she was too afraid of falling. It was as if she didn't trust him to protect her.

Well, it appeared she trusted Snape with her life. Where were they going? It was going to get dark soon.

"It's not your problem," a small voice in his head said. "Hermione can fly with Snape if she likes. Even shag him. It's her business now, not yours."

Ron blinked, then turned and slowly walked back into the school.

The little Voice of Reason was right. What Hermione did wasn't really any of his business, although as a friend he had a right to be a bit concerned.

Yes, as a friend, he could ask her about it. But he was disturbed that she was giving Snape time that she hadn't been willing to give him. What was it about the wizard that made her do that?

Ron frowned. The crush. Maybe she really did still have it. Snape wasn't a teacher twice her age now. She hadn't acted on it then, but maybe she would now.

Although he was the one that ended their relationship, Ron couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by Hermione.

Maybe more than a little.

* * *

"Stop shrieking," Snape hissed at her as they flew over the grounds, Hermione's cries attracting the attention of students who were outside. "You're going to make people think I've abducted you!"

Hermione forced herself to stop screaming as they flew toward the Forbidden Forest.

"That's better. Now, there used to be a clearing—" Snape said, flying over the forest. He paused, hovering. The clearing was overgrown with bushes and small trees. He'd forgotten how many years had passed.

"It's not here," he said, disappointment in his voice. He wanted to find someplace private to test his form.

"I know a place," Hermione offered. "Turn right. Fly slowly. It isn't a very big area but should do."

Snape slowly flew over the forest until Hermione pointed to a small clearing surrounded by trees.

"There," she directed.

Snape flew down and landed easily, letting Hermione hop off, then dismounting, handing her his broom.

"All right. It's supposed to be easier after the first transformation," he told the witch. He began to think about his form this time, not Potter or anyone else. He felt the world bending again—

"You did it!" Hermione exclaimed smiling as the magnificent gryffin appeared again. Snape extended his wings, flapping them experimentally. He jumped up, flapping strongly, but simply fluttered and dropped back to earth.

"You might not be able to hover," Hermione called to him. "Try a running start. Back up to the edge of the clearing so you have room. Try to glide first. Run, then jump into the air holding out your wings. Don't flap! You're going for a long leap at first."

Snape blinked at Hermione. She really had some good ideas. He decided to listen to her and backed up until he was at the edge of the trees. He focused, then ran forward, leaping into the air and spreading his wings. He glided across the clearing, landing at the edge of it, spinning and letting out a delighted squawk as Hermione clapped her hands together, jumping up and down at his success. If he could glide, then, maybe he really could fly. But they were going to need much more space than this for him to do that.

She ran over to him, looking into the proud black eyes with a smile.

"That was great, Severus. But, I think instead of trying to fly, you should practice gliding, landing and—and trying to turn. Get that down, then you can try something else. You can't do it all in one evening," she advised him excitedly.

Hermione was excited because it appeared that an Animagus might be able to do everything his or her animal form could do in its natural state. She'd never read anything about that possibility. Only about the process itself. She might be able to present that information as a theory for her transfiguration NEWTS. She could use Severus as a living example, documenting his abilities. Since he wasn't taking the Transfiguration NEWTS, he probably wouldn't have an objection to it. She wished she had thought to bring a pad and pencil to take notes. Still, she could put the memories in a Pensieve and study it in detail. Heck, she might even be able to present the Pensieve in a cohesive form, like a documentary.

This was wonderful!

Snape nodded. He was glad Hermione had come along now. She was proving to be quite valuable, and she seemed very excited and pleased for him. There wasn't a bit of envy in her eyes as she smiled at him breathlessly. He screeched at her again, then returned to the edge of the clearing to practice again. As he glided from one end of the clearing, Hermione made a small bonfire so they could see and settled down beside it, her eyes shining.

* * *

Snape and Hermione flew back toward the castle just before eleven. Hermione had lost track of time, and was appalled when she looked at her watch. She was going to have to sneak past Filch. But Snape returned to human form when she told him she needed to go and told her about the special dispensation he had secured for her so she could study in his quarters later.

Hermione was thrilled and almost hugged him. Almost. Snape saw her stop herself, the firelight glittering in his black eyes for a moment. Then he transformed again and got back to work.

Now, they were at the castle and Hermione had to go collect her other books from his quarters. She hadn't gotten anything done as far as her NEWTS studies went, but she had discovered a topic worth investigating, so was satisfied with her evening.

Snape watched her quietly as she collected her books.

She turned to him.

"I'm so excited for you, Severus," she told the wizard. "I don't think you were an Animagus when you were a professor. If you were, you might have utilized that form to your advantage. It's very powerful."

"I only wish Potter were here to see it," Snape said wistfully. "He wouldn't have thought himself so bloody fantastic."

"You know, you really need to get past that, Severus. James Potter has been dead for years. You need to focus on your future. Not the past," she told him as she hoisted her books on her shoulder.

He studied her.

"Yes—I think I should, Hermione Granger," he said softly. "Again, I have to tell you, that you are brilliant. I used to believe Lily was brilliant, but she was nothing compared to you. Nothing. You actually flew in order to see my form in action, and you hate flying."

Hermione shrugged. "I hate flying, but I love learning new things. I guess when it comes down to it, learning is more important than being afraid."

"I don't think you're afraid of much of anything, Hermione," Snape said, his head cocked at her.

Hermione flushed.

"Only fools never fear," she replied. "Healthy fear can save your neck."

"But taking risks can be wonderfully rewarding," Snape purred.

Hermione felt very awkward, and a little warm.

"I'd better get going. It's almost eleven," she told him, walking toward the wall. Severus hurried past her and opened it, watching her pass before entering the office and doing the same for the door, Hermione blushing as he did so. Having doors opened for her wasn't something she was used to experiencing. Ron did it sometimes, but not that often. Snape seemed to make a point of doing it.

"Would you like me to walk you to Gryffindor tower? I have no curfew," Snape asked her.

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you."

"I'll see you tomorrow evening, although I may not stay to study. I want to work on my flying."

"That's all right. I'll go with you," Hermione said. "I'm ahead two weeks after all."

"Thirteen days, now," Snape corrected her.

"I'll be fine. Good night."

"Good night, Hermione."

Snape stood in the doorway and watched Hermione walk up the corridor until she disappeared up the stairs. Then he closed the door thoughtfully.

Hermione Granger was quite an extraordinary witch.

He was sure she'd do great things one day. Extraordinary things.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	24. Small Confrontations

**Chapter 23 ~ Small Confrontations**

When Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room, only one person was there.

Ron. He was sitting on the sofa and watched as she entered. Hermione didn't notice him at first; she was so elated and deep in thought about her night with Severus.

"Oi, Hermione," Ron said softly, and she looked over at him, startled.

"Ron, what are you doing up this late?" she asked him, slipping her knapsack off her shoulder and putting it on the floor.

"I was waiting for you. You know, it was your first night studying with Snape. I wanted to make sure everything went all right," he said as Hermione walked over.

"Oh, it did! It was a wonderful night," Hermione said, sitting down next to him. "Severus discovered his Animagus form. It's a gryffin. A snow-white gryffin, Ron, and guess what?"

"What?" Ron said a bit dully.

"I think he can fly, or will be able to fly soon. We went out to the Forbidden Forest and he practiced gliding and turning in the air. He was magnificent!"

"Yeah, I can see that. Magnificent enough that you missed curfew," Ron said dryly.

"No, no. I didn't. I have a special dispensation to stay out until eleven on weeknights and one on weekends in order to study with him," she said with a smile.

Ron went silent.

"But what's really exciting about this, Ron, is now I have a theory to present for my Transfiguration NEWTS! It appears that an Animagus can exhibit the same behavior as the animal he or she turns into. Severus apparently can fly the same why a true gryffin can, so say, if someone was a dragon or other magical creature, he or she would have that animal's attributes. Isn't that interesting? I'm going to document everything about Severus' development! I'm so excited."

Ron studied her. She really was excited, and it had to do with the NEWTS as usual. He relaxed somewhat. This explained a lot. Even her getting on a broom. More than likely, she hadn't wanted to miss out and Snape was going to leave her if she didn't fly with him. So, she took the plunge. It really was a Hermione-like thing to do. It was learning, and Hermione would walk through the fires of hell itself to learn something new.

"So, he's a gryffin? He has bird feet?" Ron asked her.

"Only in the front. He has lion paws in the back. And his beak, talons and claws are gold. The tuft of his tail, too. I don't think that white is a normal gryffin color. I'll have to look it up. His color might have something to do with him being so pale naturally."

"Yeah, maybe. I'd think he'd be something all black," Ron said.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, we did associate him with darkness when he was an adult, and he lived a dark life—"

"And all he ever wore was black," Ron added

Hermione looked very thoughtful as she considered Snape's form, then the forms of the Marauders.

"You know, Ron, I just thought of something else that could be interesting to theorize about. How a wizard's or witch's form could have something to do with how they are inside."

"What?"

"No, really. Think about it. James Potter was a stag, and you know stags are showy, beautiful and sexually attractive to females. Sirius Black was a dog, and he was extremely loyal and followed James around like he was the leader of the pack. He tracked Harry down as if he sniffed him out. And Peter Pettigrew, he really was a rat in nature, the way he betrayed everyone and changed sides. Look at Rita, she's a dung beetle . . . I looked her species up. If anyone can roll dung around, it's her."

Ron chuckled as Hermione continued.

"I don't think Severus had an Animagus form in his adult life. He said he'd been trying to find his form since his fifth year. I think he must have gotten sidetracked or given up for some reason. But when he saw that Sirius and Peter could change in the Pensieve Harry gave him, it renewed his determination. He wanted to be better than them. It was when he found out that Harry's father was an Animagus, and such a handsome animal that he lost it and transformed. I think he couldn't change before because he was holding too much in. When he let out his hatred and anger, he was able to do it.

"Gryffins are guardians, usually of treasures. They are monogamous, too. When they mate, they mate for life and if one dies, the other won't ever mate again but live out its life alone—"

Hermione's eyes began to glisten as she continued.

"Severus and Lily were never really together, but he loved her. He never forgot her when he was an adult, and she was the basis for most of what he did. And he was alone most of the time, and did guard Harry. So really, it makes sense that his form would be this kind of creature, doesn't it? It fits him, his personality."

Ron just shook his head.

"It's amazing what you can come up with, Hermione," he said, yawning. "But, it does make sense. You should use it for your NEWTS."

"I am," she agreed.

Ron stood up and stretched.

"Well, now that you're back safe, I'm going to go to bed. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Hermione gave him a smile.

"I'm fine, Ron. Thanks."

Ron looked down at her as if he was going to say something else, but he didn't. He just turned and went up the stairs.

Hermione grabbed her knapsack and went to her room as well. She quickly stripped down, put on her nightgown, then grabbed a parchment and pen. She was too excited to sleep, so sat down at her desk and began to write. She was up much of the night jotting down her thoughts and ideas concerning Snape and Animagi and putting them into a rough outline.

* * *

"He's a what?" Harry asked Ron, his green eyes round as they walked down to breakfast.

"A gryffin. A white gryffin," Ron informed him, "and Hermione said he's learning how to fly."

"A gryffin. Isn't that one of those bird crossbreeds, like a hippogriff?"

"Well, it does look like one, except the back part is a lion, not a horse."

"Wow," Harry said, impressed. "That's a cool transformation."

"Hermione thinks so," Ron said a bit sullenly.

"Well, she would, Ron. No one's seen a gryffin in ages. Hagrid said that they're extinct, if I remember right," Harry said. "Hermione must have gone crazy when she saw his form."

"She did. She even flew on a broom with him, so she could watch him try to fly," Ron said.

Harry stopped walking.

"Hermione actually got on a broom?"

Ron nodded, frowning.

"She'd never fly with me," he muttered as they started walking again.

"Well, you never turned into a gryffin, Ron," Harry replied. "Hermione would do nearly anything not to miss out on something new. You know that. She had a reason to get on that broom."

"I know."

The two wizards mounted the shifting stairs, heading down to breakfast. Ron was silent, but the kind of silent that needed words.

"Ron, you aren't over Hermione, are you?" Harry asked.

"I am in a way," Ron said softly, "but, Harry, you should have seen how excited she was over Snape. She called him 'magnificent' and really meant it. I could never make her that excited over me. If I could have, then we could have stood a chance—"

"I don't think so, Ron. Eventually, the excitement's going to wear off. She'll get used to the idea and it won't seem so special anymore. Then she'll go right back into 'brain' mode. That's Hermione. Probably what she's most excited about is how she can use this to make better NEWT marks. It's not really Snape—it's what she can use from this. It's still all about her marks, Ron. It's about learning and challenging herself. I hate to say this, but I think you were right to end it. I don't think you would have been happy as her husband, if you weren't as her boyfriend."

Ron sighed, but felt a little better now that he knew Harry supported his decision. Harry loved Hermione, too, and would want what was best for both of them.

"Thanks, Harry," he said, as they changed landings.

* * *

Snape finished filling out the registration form and handed it back to Minerva, who looked down at it, her eyes rounding. She looked up at Snape in amazement.

"A—a white gryffin, Severus?"

He nodded.

Minerva reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and took out an old camera. She stood up and walked around the desk, rather excited.

"You have to send photos with your Ministry registration. So, I need you to transform," she said, a quaver in her voice.

Snape stood up and walked back toward the office door, then transformed.

Minerva gasped and fumbled with the camera, nearly dropping it as she stared at the beautiful beast before her. Snape played it up, too, arching his neck and ruffling his throat feathers, the torchlight gleaming off his beak.

"My word," Albus breathed from another portrait. "What a magnificent transformation. It would have come in handy against Voldemort's forces."

The gryffin suddenly turned its head toward the portrait with a hiss. It had heard the image's quiet comment. Gryffins had excellent hearing. Albus' image quickly ducked out of the portrait.

"Severus, look this way," Minerva said, awe in her voice as she raised the camera.

Snape posed for several pictures, spreading his wings, giving frontals, profiles and images from behind, holding up his tufted tail. When Minerva finished, she said, "I've never seen a more beautiful transformation in all my life. It's—extraordinary, Severus. Too bad you aren't taking NEWTS for transfiguration. You'd have very high marks."

The gryffin transformed back into Snape.

"I felt Herbology more important, Headmistress, no offense meant to your field, but a Potions master needs to know more about growing rare ingredients than transfiguring items."

"I understand, but still—this is marvelous. It would have been a wonderful presentation."

Snape smiled a bit.

"I'm sure Hermione has it covered, Headmistress," he replied. "My form won't go to waste academically. She's going to pick me apart feather by feather, I'm sure."

"And, you don't mind that, Severus? It sounds awfully intrusive."

"No. I don't mind it at all. She's a brilliant witch. It's not a chore to be around her."

"I see," Minerva said, sitting back down at her desk and eyeing the wizard. "So, how did the first night of study go?"

"Fine," he responded shortly.

"And how long was the session?"

"She returned to Gryffindor tower just before eleven o'clock," Snape replied with a frown.

"And what did you stu—"

Snape cut her off.

"Headmistress, are you going inquire about every detail of our study time? Why not just ask me for a Pensieve if you want to keep an eye on us? Or better yet, sit in with us and get a cat's eye view."

Minerva reddened.

"I didn't mean to pry, Severus—"

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"All right. Maybe I was prying a bit, Severus, but I'm concerned. You have Miss Granger in your private quarters for hours—"

"That's true," he replied softly. "And quite close to my bedroom."

Minerva looked scandalized.

"Severus!" she exclaimed.

"Well, that is what you were thinking, wasn't it? That we could go into my bedroom—"

"You—you are a scamp, Severus!"

"I'm not the one having impure thoughts, Headmistress. You are the one worried about what two young adults, who incidentally are both the age of consent, and one of which who has been through an entire war, are actually—learning. I resent being interrogated. You don't have the right to do it. I am doing nothing wrong."

Minerva turned scarlet.

"Maybe not as an authority figure, Severus, but Hermione Granger was my pupil, and I mentored her. She needs to keep her focus on her work—"

Minerva had heard about Hermione's breakup with Ron, and feared she might be on the rebound. An unscrupulous wizard could take advantage of her emotional turmoil. She had no idea Hermione wasn't experiencing that much turmoil at all, if any.

"She is, Headmistress, as am I. I'm taking the NEWTS, too, remember?" Snape countered. "The only reason Hermione is in my rooms is so I can make high marks. She isn't the only ambitious person in this school. I'd like to make the best showing possible. She's helping me. And if there is anything extracurricular between us, that's our business. Now, I have to go. I have a potion brewing that needs my attention."

And Snape walked over, grabbed a handful of Floo powder out of a box on the mantel, and threw it into the flames.

"My quarters," he said softly, then stepped through, leaving a speechless Minerva behind.

Albus immediately appeared in the painting behind her.

"You're going to alienate that wizard with your meddling, Minerva. Leave them alone. If they were to get together, it wouldn't be terrible. They are both brilliant, and very much alike in ways. A far better match than she and Weasley, I must admit."

Minerva spun in her chair.

"You sound as if you want them to—to—"

"Find each other? Perhaps. Hermione Granger is not a Lily Evans, and that, my dear, is a good thing," the portrait replied. "Leave them alone, Minerva. Let the boy have a chance at happiness this time around. The gods know the first time was a bust."

Minerva fell silent. Maybe she should back off. Severus, rude as he was, had been right. She had no right to meddle. It was just difficult not to be protective of Hermione. She'd been through so much in her young life and was trying to do something with it.

But Severus had been through hell itself, for many years. This truly was a second chance for him.

"Fine, Albus. I'll back off," she said softly.

"Good for you," the portrait replied.

* * *

Snape returned to his rooms and quickly walked over to a small cauldron he had simmering on low. He lifted the top and eyed the thickened lime green solution. He waved his hand over it slowly, scenting the fumes. Yes, it was done. He turned off the cauldron.

"This ought to have you running after students in no time, Mr. Filch," Snape said softly as he retrieved a heavy glove, ladle and several jars.

He pulled on the glove to protect his hand from the heat, then carefully filled the jars. He screwed the tops on and set them aside to cool. He'd made enough to last for the rest of the term and cover the summer months.

He'd be sure to send the old squib more when he ran out.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	25. Discovery Short Chapter

**Chapter 24 ~ Discovery (Short Chapter)**

At exactly a quarter to twelve, Snape heard a familiar pounding on his office door. He opened it and Hermione rushed by him, pressing a stack of parchments into his hand as she passed.

"That's an outline for my Transfiguration NEWTS," she called back as she zoomed through the open wall, pulling off her knapsack. Snape looked after her, then down at the parchments. He glanced over the first page, both brows risings, then he thumbed through the rest, counting them. There were fifteen pages of notes, outlines and drawings of him as a gryffin. He walked into his quarters to find Hermione seated at the desk, parchments all around her and writing so fast it seemed the tip of the quill she was using was smoking.

"When did you do this?" he asked her in amazement.

"Last night. Now, please don't bother me. I need to catch up on what I didn't do last night," Hermione said, leafing through a book, running her finger down the page and finding what she wanted. She had pushed Snape's books out of the way unceremoniously. He had plenty of time to study. She didn't.

Snape occupied his time by reading her both her theories. First the one about Animagi taking on the attributes of the animals they changed into, then the one about how a person's personality or character can determine the type of animal they become. He found it interesting and looked at her examples of Potter, Black, Pettigrew and himself.

Yes, James a stag strutting about and showing off for the ladies fit. Black as the loyal tag-along dog, and Peter as a dirty rat. But it was her rather in-depth outline of his attributes that made him take notice, simply because she used what she knew of him as an adult to justify his transformation. She compared his service as a guardian to Harry Potter, who was a treasure to the wizarding world to the gryffin's duty of guarding treasures. Then compared his continued love of Lily Potter to the gryffin's monogamous, loyal nature, and how it wouldn't seek out another mate if one died. It would live out its life alone.

He looked over at the bushy-haired witch, who closed one book and quickly opened another, then returned to notes. How had she done so much in so little time? He looked over at her again. Taking her with him last night had turned out well, but he hadn't expected this frenzied response to it. But of course she had to make up for the lost study time.

"I'm doing Arithmancy now," Hermione called over to him.

Snape quickly joined her, observing her working the equations and following along, catching on quickly. It was a good thing too, because Hermione wasn't slowing down a bit. Then she used the solved equation to determine ratios of ingredients to add to a potion to make it viable, based on the nature of the ingredients and their known interactions with each other as well as the catalysts used. Severus began to see how Arithmancy would improve brewing accuracy for someone well-versed in potions. It would be gobbledygook to a layperson.

After a very productive hour, Hermione looked at her watch and started gathering her work together. After putting it into an empty cubbyhole, she quickly slung her knapsack over her shoulder and looked at her host.

"Thanks," she said, heading for the exit and her next class.

Once again Snape opened the wall for her and the door leading out.

"I'll see you this evening," Hermione said, quickly heading up the hall. A few Slytherins walked behind her and looked at Snape curiously. He closed the door without greeting them.

Wow. That had been one whirlwind visit. Hermione certainly was focused. And fast.

It was as if he hadn't even been there.

Snape returned to his quarters and curiously pulled Hermione's work out of the cubby hole. Her handwriting was neat and precise, despite how fast she'd been writing. She'd written an essay and a half, completed a Muggles Studies question and answer sheet, diagramed several spells and did two pages work of Arithmancy and then the potions equations. Snape slowly shook his head and put the parchments back.

What was she compensating for? It just wasn't normal to be so driven. What was she hiding from? Snape idly walked over to one of his bookshelves and tilted his head slightly, reading the titles on the spines. Some books had no title. These, he tested with his wand for traces of Dark Magic. They could contain demons or something worse. If they were clean, he'd pull them out to see the names.

He methodically made his way down the shelves until he came to a thin black book. It had no title on the spine. He tested it for evil signatures, but there was no reaction. He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. He pulled out the books on either side and it stood rigid in the middle. He pulled on it again, wrenching his hand, thinking it was stuck. Still the book stubbornly stayed in place. Finally, he pushed it.

The entire bookshelf from floor to ceiling shuddered, the books rattling in place. Snape leapt back, afraid he'd be buried in tomes. A grating noise sounded of stone dragging over stone and the entire bookshelf slid back and to the side, revealing a room behind it. Torches flared up and Snape looked inside cautiously. It was a long room, the sides of it lined with shelves which were covered in translucent curtains. A writing desk and chair rested against the back wall. On the desk was a large book, a quill and an ink bottle.

Snape cautiously peered inside, then stepped in. Behind the gauzy curtains were bowls. There had to be at least four hundred of them. He pulled one of the curtains aside and saw that each bowl was carefully dated. He recognized his own writing. Each bowl was covered with a lid. His wand drawn, he carefully lifted one of the lids and discovered these weren't bowls, but Pensieves.

He stared down into the swirling silver liquid, then slowly returned the cover. He jumped as the wall behind him shuddered and closed, but the torches remained lit. The room must have been charmed to recognize when it was occupied.

"What is this?" he said softly, walking down to the desk at the end and around it, eyeing the huge book. He sat down in the chair and slowly opened it. It was blank.

Snape frowned at this. There was a quill and ink and only this book. He picked up the ink bottle and opened it, looking inside. It was half full. It had been used. He then plucked the quill out of its holder, noting the dried ink on the tip. It had also been used. He frowned at the book, then pointed his wand at it on a whim.

"Reveal your secret!" Snape hissed, touching the parchment with the tip of his wand.

Slowly, writing faded in, again in his handwriting. Snape blinked at it.

It was a list consisting of titles and dates next to them. He read a few.  
.

**Voldemort's Targeting of the Potters**

**Dumbledore's Instructions**

**My First Day**

**Gaining Control**

**My Vow to Protect**

**Death Eater Meeting**

**Revel**

**Death Eater Meeting**

**Torture**

**Dumbledore's Instructions**

Snape ran his finger down the list and turned the page. Most of the headings were Death Eater Meetings, Dumbledore's Instructions, Voldemort's Instructions, Revel and Torture, followed by dates. Snape looked at the rows of Pensieves and realized what the book was. A record. A record of his spying. He must have kept these secret records for proof or maybe even blackmail purposes

What was a Revel?

Snape looked at the date next to the word, then stood up and started looking at the Pensieves. The oldest ones were closest to the desk on the right side. He found a bowl with the same date, picked it up and blew the dust off it. He carried it back to the desk and set it down, removing the cover. He stared down into the swirling mass for about five seconds before he withdrew with a cry of horror.

"What was that?" he gasped, his eyes wet. "Oh, bloody hell. What—what was that! What were they doing?"

The question was rhetorical. He'd seen what was happening. Women were being brutally raped and beaten by a group of Death Eaters while a disfigured Tom Riddle presided over them. He was seated on a throne that looked as if it were constructed of human bones, a thin smile on his face as screams, cries and grunts filled the room.

Shivering, Snape covered the Pensieve back and sat there, stunned.

Was that what it was like to serve Voldemort? Slaughter? Mayhem? Gods, had he participated in that? If he did, he deserved Azkaban or worse. He hadn't stayed in the Pensieve long enough to see himself. He needed to go back and see, but didn't want to do it. He was afraid of what he might find.

No. Not now. Maybe later, after a Firewhiskey. Maybe two of them.

He blinked. Here were more memories than he ever dreamed of—and judging by the first one he viewed, probably more memories than he'd ever want.

* * *

A/N: I was thinking about spies, and how in some cases, they kept their own records for their own protection. I thought it would be cool if Snape did this without Albus knowing it, so I wrote it in. Thanks for reading.


	26. Hermione's Reaction Short Chapter

**Chapter 25 ~ Hermione's Reaction**

Hermione knocked on the Potions office door, anxious to get in. She planned on asking Severus if he could wait an hour so she could finish up some work. If not, she'd work on it when she returned to Gryffindor tower. She knocked again, frowning. He was taking a long time to answer the door. Finally, the door open and Snape appeared in it, his eyes bloodshot.

"Come in, Hermione," he said, turning and walking back through the open wall to his quarters.

Hermione immediately felt something was very wrong. He usually closed and warded the door behind her. She pulled out her wand and did it for him, then quickly walked in the room. At first, she didn't see him. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, facing the fire, not moving.

"Severus? Is something wrong?" she asked him, placing her knapsack on the desk, then walking around the armchairs to look at him. He looked awful and didn't answer her.

She slowly sat down in the other armchair.

"What's happened?" she asked him, her eyes resting on his profile.

"I—I found something," he said softly.

"What?"

He didn't answer immediately, but eventually said, "A Pensieve."

"A Pensieve? What kind of Pensieve? What was in it? Whose memories?"

"Mine."

Hermione blinked at him, a bad feeling rising in her belly.

"What was in it, Severus?" she asked him.

"Me. Murdering people. Women. Raped women. I'm a killer," he said softly.

"Raped women? Severus, did you witness a Revel?" she asked him.

Now Snape looked at her.

"You know about that? About Revels?" he asked her.

She nodded soberly.

"Periodically the Death Eaters would round up Muggle women and rape and kill them in a kind of twisted party atmosphere. Then they'd leave the mutilated, beaten bodies to be found. It was awful."

"I attended them," he said. "I killed the women afterwards. I told the Dark Lord it's what I wanted to do. I asked his permission to do it. He was—pleased."

Hermione took this in, swallowing.

"Did you help rape any of them?" she asked him, trembling a little.

He shook his head.

"I just stood there—and watched. I didn't do anything to help them," he murmured, his dark eyes haunted.

"You couldn't have done anything. You would have been found out if you tried to help them, Severus. But—but I think you did help them as best you could, by removing their pain," she said softly.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I think you asked to kill them to keep them from suffering a long, lingering, painful death," she told him. "It was an act of mercy. The only mercy you could show them. Ending their torment. Just as you did for Dumbledore."

Snape swallowed.

"How could I have ever wanted to join him? Why didn't I see what he was?" he said in a whisper.

"He—he was there when you needed him, Severus. He misled you. He misled a lot of people. You were young, impressionable. You had no idea what his real agenda was—and you redeemed yourself. You truly did."

Snape looked at her.

"There are more. More Pensieves. More memories. I kept a record of everything important. Voldemort's orders. Dumbledore's orders. Death Eater Meetings. Vows. All types of information, Hermione."

Hermione was stunned at this revelation.

"Where? Where are they, Severus? Show me. Please," she said to him.

Snape rose as if he weighed a ton and walked to the bookshelf and pushed in the thin black book. Hermione started as the entire shelf shook, then slid back with a grating noise, then to the side. She stood up and looked in as the torches flared up. She saw all the Pensieves.

"Oh my gods," she breathed. "There's so many."

"All catalogued according to date, Hermione. Everything I want to know about my past as a spy is here," Severus said heavily.

Hermione eyed the Pensieves as if they were pure evil.

"Destroy them, Severus," she said softly.

"What? Destroy them?"

Hermione spun.

"Yes! Destroy them. You don't need to see them, you don't need to relive what you went through, what you lived through. Don't you see you are free now to have a good life? Destroy every single one of them if you ever want to be happy!"

Snape's dark eyes washed across all the veiled bowls.

"But, but I must have kept them for a reason," he said doubtfully.

"The hell with the reasons! Voldemort's dead! Everyone knows your story, how you served the Order. That's all that matters! You don't need this! Destroy them! Or you'll be imprisoned by them, Severus!"

Snape looked at Hermione's contorted face, torn. He could learn so much about himself through these Pensieves.

"Some of them are labeled 'Torture.' Did Voldemort torture people?"

"He tortured YOU! With Unforgivables and with whips and scourges. You were covered in scars as a professor. The marks of your 'service.' Do you really want to see yourself strung up by the wrists, your own blood pouring in down your body and pooling under your feet? No, you don't. You don't want to see that!"

Hermione whipped out her wand.

"If you won't do it, I will! REDUCTO!" she cried furiously, destroying an entire shelf of Pensieves with powerful, vicious intent.

"REDUCTO! REDUCTO!" she cried over and over, shattering shelves and Pensieves, the silvery liquid pouring down over the splintered wood to the floor and evaporating as she turned the entire room into a shambles, Snape watching her with his mouth open. Tears streamed down her face as she demolished everything he used to be.

Finally, all that was left whole was the desk with the journal on it. Hermione turned to him.

"Destroy it," she said softly. "Free yourself, Severus Snape. Wipe it all out."

Snape looked at her, then stepped forward, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the book on the desk.

"Reducto!" he hissed, the book exploding into shreds which floated to the floor like strips of confetti.

"Now, close this room. Never open it again," Hermione directed, her voice just above a whisper as she backed out of it, looking at Snape expectantly.

The wizard stepped back and pulled out the book. The wall closed. Hermione's chest was still rising and falling with emotion as she looked up at him. He had a strange expression on his face.

"I've never had anyone so determined to protect me from myself—even—even Lily walked away from me the day I called her a Mudblood. I was—I was just angry at the world—at everyone. She left me to my fate—to James and the Marauders. She didn't understand I didn't mean it—"

He looked at Hermione.

"But you—why?" he asked her softly. "I was never good to you, Hermione. Never."

"No, but you protected me, Severus. I'm—I'm just returning the favor. You were such an unhappy man. Now, you have the chance to relive your life. You don't need those dark memories to blemish it again. Just consider it tit-for-tat."

Snape stared at her, his dark eyes seeming to become even darker.

"You're a very special witch, Hermione," he breathed, starting to lean toward her.

"I've been told that," she said, her heart starting to pound. She took off for the desk at a nice, brisk pace, Snape stopping his lean and looking after her, his eyes half-lidded.

"She's like a rabbit," he said under his breath as she sat down at the desk and busily took out the books she had in the little bookcase built along the top.

"I was going to ask you if you could wait an hour or so while I finish up a few things," she said in a higher voice than usual.

"I'll wait as long as you like, Hermione Granger," he replied softly.

Hermione looked at him, flushing.

"Thank you," she said, getting down to work.

* * *

A/N: Ooh lala. Lol. "I'll wait as long as you like, Hermione Granger." Hm. Thanks for reading.


	27. Raising the Bar

**Chapter 26 ~ Raising the Bar**

When they finally did leave for the Forbidden Forest two hours later, and Hermione was securely on his broom, Snape took the opportunity to inform her about Minerva's misgivings.

"You know, the Headmistress is quite concerned about the amount of unsupervised time you're spending in my quarters," Severus said to Hermione as they flew toward the Forest.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked him.

"I believe she thinks your virtue is in danger," Snape replied.

Hermione felt her face warming. Snape had definitely tried to kiss her—but it had been a rather emotional moment for him.

"That's ridiculous," she replied, although there wasn't much conviction in her voice. Snape thought she probably was a terrible liar.

"You're exactly right," Snape agreed, circling over the clearing. "Although it is my virtue that she should be concerned about."

"Your virtue?" Hermione responded, almost laughing.

Snape dipped downward, pulling up at the last minute, making Hermione's heart nearly rise into her throat. They landed. She dismounted and looked at him expectantly.

"Yes, my virtue. I've yet to be—intimate with a witch."

Snape dismounted and handed the surprised witch his broom, his black eyes resting on her as she stared back at him, speechless.

"What? You find it strange that I'm a virgin? Well, don't. I wasn't the most popular wizard at Hogwarts. No witch other than Lily ever gave me the time of day. Besides, they were all silly, giggling little chits. Not a brain cell between them. All they did was flaunt their 'charms' and make wizards trail after them as if under the Imperious curse. They enjoyed leading them around by their nads. I was immune to them."

Hermione saw a bitterness in Snape's eyes as he said this. She didn't believe he was immune to witches. She believed he felt he would never be accepted by any of them and just--- avoided them—acted as if they had no effect on him.

"Witches can be rather silly," Hermione said softly.

"Especially when it comes to the wizards they choose to be with," he muttered.

He transformed into his gryffin form, half-spread his wings and walked to the edge of the clearing as Hermione made another bonfire. It was dusk and nightfall would be on them soon.

As she cast the Incendio spell at the teepee-like structure of wood she'd arranged, Hermione wondered if he was referring to Lily Potter or herself when he muttered about chosen wizards. She settled down a distance from the bonfire, took out her pad and sketched him as he glided around the clearing, learning how to turn smoothly. He was still gliding however, making leaps here and there as he touched down.

He was beautiful. From time to time, he would stop gliding, look at her and strike a pose, talon raking at the air as he stared fiercely at her. As a gryffin, he had no other expression other than fierce. It was his body language that expressed his emotions.

"You're nothing but a big show off," Hermione chuckled as he spread his wings dramatically. She quickly drew a sketch. She'd fill in the details later.

"You know, I find it ironic that your form is a gryffin, Severus," she called over to him. "I mean the form suits your personality, but a gryffin is the representative animal of Gryffindor house, and—well—you're a Slytherin. That has to curl your coils a little."

Snape turned back into his human form so he could answer her. He walked over and stood before the flame, firelight flickering over his severe black button-down robes.

"No, it doesn't curl my coils," he replied loftily. "Obviously, it was my destiny to oversee Gryffindors and try to keep them from getting themselves killed because of their 'run right to the danger' attitude. As a Slytherin, I was better equipped to baby sit all of you. At least, that is my theory. What I think is ironic is that after being tormented by Gryffindors for years, I ended up protecting and nearly giving my life for them. The bottom line is, it took a Slytherin to watch over you lot. Cunning and resourcefulness mattered much more than just blind courage."

Hermione looked up at him.

"So that's what you think, is it?" she asked him.

"No. That's what I know," he replied, turning back into a gryffin and stalking away, his tufted tail lashing.

As he continued to practice, Hermione frowned down at her notepad. She couldn't get his feathers precisely right. She looked up at him as he prepared to leap off again.

"Severus, could I—examine you? For my sketches?"

The gryffin blinked at her, then walked over.

"Squawww," it said rather softly. Hermione took it for a yes. She looked up at it, and it lowered its head slightly, and Hermione ran her hands over the powerful beak slowly, Snape working his jaw a little. He lowered his head a bit more and Hermione caressed his face, then the top of his head, looking at the small feathers that covered it. She ran her hands down his neck, and the gryffin's eyes closed in pleasure. Hermione examined its wings, back, talons and legs, making little sketches of the scales and feather types.

When it appeared her examination of him was finished, Snape wickedly lifted his right back leg and squawked at her. Hermione turned bright red, refusing to look at his exposed genitals, turning her eyes up and to the right in reaction.

"No, I really don't need to examine those up close," she told him. "I can get those sketchings from—from a book. You have the standard lion body after all."

The gryffin lowered its leg and let out a little line of chatter that Hermione was sure translated into something like, "What kind of researcher are you?"

"Go glide," she snapped at him. If he had been a real gryffin, she would have had no problem looking at and sketching his reproductive organs. But he wasn't a gryffin. He was a wizard, and an awful one to do that to her. Still, she smirked a little as he returned to his practicing.

She sat back down by the bonfire, but not too close. Just close enough to see her notepad. She idly thought about what her own Animagus form could be, if she had one. It was doubtful she did. Although she knew about several Animagi, including Snape, the truth was they were rare. It was coincidence that the Marauders all had the ability to change the way they did. And finding the form usually took years. Snape had been at it for at least two years before his transformation last night. Two years.

Hermione thought that one day she might investigate it further. For now, she was content to document Severus and advance her theories based on his transformation. Maybe—maybe he'd even stand in on her NEWTS and transform. That had to be worth some extra points. Her brown eyes looked thoughtful as she watched the gryffin glide and turn gracefully.

Maybe he'd even fly. She'd have to ask him.

* * *

"No. Now that's going beyond what's necessary, Hermione. I'm letting you document me. Doesn't it ever stop with you?" Snape complained as they flew back toward the castle.

"What? All you'd have to do is stand there, transform when I say and maybe take a few glides around the room. What's so hard about that?"

"Why not just set up a couple of fiery hoops for me to fly through on command?" Snape hissed at her.

"Hey—that's not such a bad—"

"I was being sarcastic," Snape snapped at her, his arms tightening a bit as Hermione rested between them.

"Stop squeezing me."

"Stop aggravating me," Snape hissed at her. "You are not going to parade me around for your NEWTS! I can't believe you're a Gryffindor. You are so—so self-promoting!"

"Only when it comes to marks," Hermione said as they landed near the castle stairs and she hopped off the broom. "I want the best graduating marks Hogwarts has seen in years, Severus. Won't you help me?"

Snape looked at her incredulously as he opened the door for her to enter the castle.

"Help you? I am helping you! You haven't even touched any of my books yet. You could probably come up with hundreds of theories if you weren't so focused on my transformation. You wouldn't need me at your NEWTS."

Filch suddenly walked into view, his craggy face breaking into a smile when he saw Snape and Hermione. He waved at the wizard, then jumped into the air, clicking his heels together. He landed crisply, giving them both an exaggerated bow and flourish.

Hermione was absolutely stunned at Filch's nimbleness and lack of breaking limbs.

Snape smiled back at him, genuinely happy that his salve had worked so well. Suddenly, Filch looked upward, his eyes narrowed and on point. He had seen the billow of an errant student's robe on the third floor landing.

"I see yah!" the squib cried, running up the marble staircase two steps at a time and disappearing down the first floor corridor. He quickly emerged on the second floor landing and caught a shifting stairwell to the third floor landing, leapt off and charged down it.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, still unable to believe Filch was running about as if he were thirty years younger.

"It seems Filch is on the hunt," Snape said, looking back at her.

"You had something to do with that, didn't you? He wouldn't have smiled at you like that. Filch never smiles at anyone. What did you do? Give him something?"

Snape nodded.

"A salve for his arthritis. Filch was the only one who ever tried to catch the Marauders. He was kind of my ally at Hogwarts. His bones bother him now. I thought it would be nice if he could engage in his favorite pastime again, that of running down students."

Filch reappeared on the third floor landing, holding a blonde third year student by the nape of his robes. He looked down at Snape victoriously as if the student was a prize buck he'd brought down. Filch shook the boy a little before mounting a landing and heading up to the Headmistress' office.

"They are certainly going to be surprised," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Usually, they just walk quickly to get away from him. He gets tired easily."

"He wasn't tired. He was in pain. Rule breakers beware. Now, back to what you asked me. No," he said to Hermione, who scowled and looked at her watch.

"It's almost eleven. I have to go, but this isn't over. I can't understand why you're being so selfish about this. You have nothing to do while the Transfiguration NEWTS are going on. You could be there without any problem. It wouldn't even take five minutes, Severus."

"No," he said again, now walking toward the dungeon stairwell. "And that's the end of it."

He billowed down the stairs.

"No, it's not," Hermione hissed, turning and stalking up the staircase.

Severus Snape was going to get onboard one way or the other.

She'd make sure of it.

* * *

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry asked his friend, who was standing very still in the middle of their room. Harry had been reading a Quidditch magazine, but Ron distracted him—by doing nothing. Ron was always doing something, so this was rather weird.

"Shhh. I'm concentrating," Ron said, frowning slightly.

"Concentrating on what? Miming a pillar?"

Ron let out an exasperated sigh, then grabbed a book off his bed and tossed it to Harry. Harry looked at the title and said, "Oh Ron, don't tell me you actually paid for this tripe."

"What? I've heard it's a great instructional aid."

"How to Become an Animagus in Only 7 Days? Ron, this is a rip-off. That's impossible. Didn't you pay any attention in Transfiguration?"

Ron looked at Harry.

"But these are 'mystic' techniques, not the usual old magic, Harry. These methods come from the Ancients. I haven't even gotten to the chanting part yet. That releases my 'Chi' into 'Pralaya.' Then, Kali, the goddess of—"

"Ron, this really sounds like a bunch of made up stuff or mixed-up. I don't know which but I'm sure seven days from now, you'll still be Ron, with two arms, two legs and a head full of useless junk you've learned from this book. You should get your money-back. Why are you doing this anyway? Because of Severus? Or is it Hermione?"

Ron scowled.

"Why does it have to be about either of them? Actually, it's not, really. I'm just curious as to what my Animagus form would be," Ron said.

"Provided you even have one. Not everyone does, Ron. It's kind of a rare ability."

"I don't believe that, Harry. You know why? Because your father, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew all managed to transform. I think a lot of it had to do with their intent rather than their abilities. They wanted to be with Lupin when he transformed. I think that their desire was what helped them transform. Hermione's not the only one who can come up with a theory, you know. The odds are better that they all managed to do it, than that all three had the ability and just happened to be friends," Ron said.

Harry blinked at him.

"Ron, I believe Hermione has really rubbed off on you. That's not half bad."

Ron sat down on the bed.

"Harry, what kind of animal do you think I'd transform into, based on my personality?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. You're loyal. Maybe a dog."

Ron's face screwed up. He was hoping Harry would say something with more "oomph."

"How about a dragon," he offered, hoping Harry would pick up on it.

But Harry shook his head.

"No. You don't have the bite for that, Ron. A dragon would be more like Draco Malfoy's form, if he had one."

"A Basilisk?"

"No."

"A Sphinx?"

"Uh-uh."

Ron rattled off several names of the coolest creatures he could think of, all magical.

Harry sighed and said, "Ron, I really think you would have a basic animal form. Maybe a fox. They're great strategists in the wild. And they have red fur, like your hair. I don't think a fox would be bad at all."

"A fox? That's not very exciting at all," Ron muttered. "Especially compared to a gryffin."

"It IS about Severus," Harry said accusingly. "You're jealous!"

"No, I'm not. I just would like a cool Animagus form, Harry."

"Right, Ron," Harry replied, his voice showing his disbelief.

"Just throw me back my book."

"Fine. Here. Mime all you like," Harry said, tossing Ron the book and returning to his Quidditch mag.

Ron leafed through the book, chucked it back on his bed, then took up his still, relaxed position in the center of the room again, Harry ignoring him.

Presently, Ron closed his eyes and began to chant.

"Ohmm. Ohmmmmm. Ohmmm"

Harry looked up at him, wide-eyed. Ron was now rocking side to side in time with his chanting.

"Ohmmmm. Ohmmmm."

"Oh, good Grindelows," the boy who lived breathed in exasperation, putting his magazine on his nightstand. He removed his glasses, fell back in the bed and pulled his pillow over his face.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

A/N: lol. Thanks for reading.


	28. Concessions

**Chapter 27 ~ Concessions**

"What's the matter with Ron?" Ginny asked as she sat next to Harry at breakfast, scrutinizing her brother, who was sitting across from them. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He yawned and fixed himself a cup of tea.

"Oh, he was up ohmmming most of the night," Harry replied, putting some tomato slices on his plate.

"Ohmmming? Never heard of it. Is that anything like wanking off?" Ginny inquired.

Shocked, Ron looked up at his sister as Harry grinned wickedly.

"It is if you ask me," he answered.

Ron scowled.

"Oh, shut up, Harry," he muttered.

Harry chuckled.

Ginny grinned, then said, "No, really. What's ohmmming?"

Harry explained about the book Ron purchased and how he was trying to becoming an Animagus in seven days. Six, now. Ginny shook her head but wanted to be supportive of her brother's efforts.

"Good luck with that, Ron," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Ginny," Ron responded, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Did anyone see Hermione at all yesterday?" Ginny asked.

Neville Longbottom, who was sitting next to her, answered.

"Yeah, I did. I saw her leaving the castle with professor Snape around seven-thirty last night. He had a broom with him," Neville replied.

"They were probably testing his Animagus form again," Harry said.

Neville looked interested.

"Snape is an Animagus? I never knew that."

"Well, he wasn't last time around. But this time, yeah. He changes into a gryffin."

"Wow. A gryffin," Neville breathed, impressed. "I'd like to see that."

Ron frowned as he buttered his toast.

"Maybe he'll show us this weekend," Ginny said. "We can ask him. All he can say is no."

"He probably won't," Ron said enviously. "He'll probably be too happy to show it off. Git."

By lunchtime, nearly everyone knew that the former professor Snape was an Animagus and what his form was. Professor Slughorn was particularly impressed.

"That is quite a form, quite a form indeed, if it's true," he said to Minerva at lunch.

"Oh, but it is true, Horace. He came to me to register yesterday. It's a beautiful transformation, and rare."

"You know, Minerva, Severus has been far too solitary since his accident. He needs to get out and reacquaint himself with the world. I believe I'll invite him to one of my little get-togethers, introduce him to a few people, or re-introduce him, rather."

Minerva rolled her eyes.

"Horace, I'm almost certain Severus has no desire to join your 'Slug Club," she said tightly.

Horace blustered.

"Whatever do you mean, Minerva? It is important for a young wizard to make contacts that can benefit him over the years. Surely, he will see that. He is a Slytherin after all."

"Severus has never been the type to 'mingle,' Horace. If you invite him, you may be disappointed," the Headmistress informed him.

"We'll see," Slughorn replied, not the least bit discouraged.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had standing invitations to the Slug Club gatherings because of their roles in the defeat of Voldemort. Slughorn only had one gathering this year and Ron attended along with Harry and Ginny. Hermione didn't go. She said she didn't have time to chat up people. She had too much work to do.

Ron, on the other hand, was ecstatic, because Slughorn used to act as if he hadn't existed and he'd been excluded from parties that Harry and Hermione were invited to attend. He was fascinated when he was introduced to Eldred Worple, the author of "Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires."

It wasn't Worple himself that was so fascinating, but who he had with him in attendance. A vampire from the Black Forest named Sanguini, who was tall, pale and gaunt, with hypnotic black eyes and long, black hair.

"Bloody hell. He could pass for Snape's brother if he had a bigger nose," Ron had breathed at Harry before the vampire's dark eyes flicked toward him and he smiled slightly, a tip of a fang showing. Ron had watched him nearly the whole night and when the party was ending, the vampire approached him. Harry and Ginny had already left, so he was alone.

"I appear to be of interest to you, young man," Sanguini said in a soft, heavily-accented and rather sensuous voice. "You've been watching me most of the night. I could—feel you. Perhaps you and I could walk together in private and I could answer any questions you might have concerning me—to slake your obvious curiosity."

Ron blinked, caught up in the vampire's seductive aura and was about to answer him in the affirmative when Worple suddenly inserted himself between them, facing Sanguini.

"Ah, Sanguini, I believe it is nearly time for us to go," he said warningly as the vampire didn't take his eyes off of Ron. Worple turned to him.

"I suggest you leave, young man," he urged.

Ron looked as if he had awakened from a dream.

"Uh—yeah. I guess I'd better," he said, and walked away uncertainly.

Worple looked at Sanguini disapprovingly. Sanguini shrugged.

"I was feeling a bit peckish," the vampire said.

Worple fished a Blood-flavored lollipop out of his pocket that he'd purchased from Honeyduke's Candy Shop and held it out to him.

"Here. Suck on this," he said pointedly.

Ron never knew he had been this close to being a snack for a vampire.

There was such a thing as too much mingling.

* * *

When Hermione arrived at Snape's quarters that evening, he asked her how much time she need for studying. She didn't answer him at first.

"Are you going deaf?" he snarked, miffed at her ignoring him.

Hermione opened her Arithmancy book.

"I won't be going out with you tonight, Severus. I'm going to do my Arithmancy/Potions work first, so you can study, then go. I'll be staying here."

"What? You're not going to come with me?" he asked, sitting down beside her and taking parchment and pen out of a cubbyhole.

"No, I'm not. I thought about what you said, and decided you were right. It would be a much better use of my time to study your books than to watch you gliding around a clearing. So, after I've caught up with my work, I'll be utilizing your library and looking for more theories."

Snape seemed taken aback by this, but said nothing as Hermione proceeded to do her work, him following along, his dark eyes flicking to her face from time to time. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and the tip of her tongue was visible, peeking out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. She was finished in an hour.

"There," she said, closing the books and looking at him. "You're free to go now."

Snape scowled at her as she opened the next set of books.

"I was going to try flapping a bit tonight," he said.

"That's nice," Hermione said shortly.

"It'll feel—strange practicing alone," he muttered.

Hermione shrugged.

"You'll get used to it," she replied carelessly.

"Fine!" Snape snapped, pushing away from the table violently, his chair scraping the floor. He stood up, stalked into his room and grabbed his broomstick, then walked back past her.

Hermione didn't even look up. He stopped at the wall and stood there looking at it, then whirled and stalked back over to her.

"This is about the blasted NEWTS, isn't it?" he demanded.

"NEWTS? I have no idea what you're talking about, Severus."

He stared down at her furiously, then shook a pale finger at her.

"This is about the NEWTS. You're doing this because I wouldn't agree to give a demonstration of my abilities. You're abandoning me," he told her.

Hermione turned in her chair and looked at him, her brown eyes defiant.

"How am I abandoning you? I'm doing exactly what we agreed upon. Helping you with your Arithmancy and in exchange accessing your library. How is that abandoning you?"

"You—I—the flying—"

Hermione arched one eyebrow at him.

"You certainly can do better than that," she said.

Snape sighed. He really did want Hermione out there with him while he practiced. She was like his cheering section and he liked her company, not to mention her attention.

"I want you to come with me, Hermione. It wouldn't be the same without you. Not nearly as fun," he told her honestly.

"I'm not here to have fun. I'm here to work," she responded.

"Don't give me that. You gather information while I practice, information you can use. Do you really want to miss me using my wings for something other than gliding for the first time? Do you?"

"No, I don't, but Severus, I want to make the best presentation I can and that requires your assistance. If you don't help me, the whole project will feel incomplete, as if I didn't give my best. I'd rather work on something else and take it as far as I can go rather than make a partial presentation that I know can be better. I'm just trying to do my best here and work with what I have to work with."

Snape stared down at her.

"You know, this is very close to blackmail, Hermione Granger. Your company in exchange for my acquiescence. Not a very Gryffindor act at all."

"I'm not blackmailing anyone, Severus. You don't have to help me," she told him, turning back in her chair and pretending to leaf through her book. "I can come up with something else, believe me. In fact, there are a number of erroneous, long-standing assumptions about Muggles—"

"Fine. If you will continue to accompany me while I learn to fly, I'll stand in on your blasted NEWTS," Snape muttered.

Hermione immediately popped up.

"Well, let's go then," she said, heading for the wall and letting herself out, Snape staring after her.

"Damn manipulative Gryffindors," he hissed, striding after her.

* * *

Hermione had a rather tight ride to the clearing, Snape holding her so tightly that she could scarcely draw a breath. He was angry, and it showed. Well, her plan had worked. She didn't feel very guilty about manipulating him this way. She just hadn't been sure she could do it. He might not have cared if she went with him or not.

Obviously, he did care. He said practicing was more fun when she was present, so that meant he enjoyed her company. Hermione got a little pleasurable thrill from that admission. Again, she felt very special.

Instead of heading for the Forbidden Forest, Snape flew toward the Quidditch pitch, passing over it and looking down. It was empty of students. There was plenty of space here, and no one could see inside it from a distance. He flew down and let Hermione off, then flew first to one entrance, then the other, warding them so no one could enter.

He flew back to Hermione, who stared at him.

"You can't ward the Quidditch pitch!" she said to him. "It's a public area."

"Yes, a public area that's being used privately," he snapped at her, stalking over to the closest stand area and leaning his broom against the wall. "If anyone has any complaints, I'll deal with it. Now—"

Snape transformed into his gryffin form and looked at Hermione for a moment before he began to run across the Quidditch pitch. Hermione had never really seen him run for any distance because the clearing wasn't that big. She quickly pulled out her note pad and sketched out his stride. Despite having talons, he ran much as a lion did, head low and tail streaming, his wings folded against his body, his front legs passing between his back legs as he streaked across the landscape. He was very fast, very handsome and very dangerous looking. Hermione could almost imagine him bringing some animal down in this manner.

Snape ran along the perimeter of the stadium and now was streaking back toward Hermione full speed, the witch gasping. He wasn't slowing down as he drew nearer, his dark eyes focused on her as if she were prey. Hermione's heart started pounding. How angry had she really made the wizard?

Hermione screamed as Snape was almost on top of her. At the last moment, he gave a cry and leaped, soaring over her head, wings spread, turning gracefully before he flapped, elevating himself, going higher and higher, Hermione still screaming, but this time with delight as she watched Snape's maiden flight. Again, he was magnificent.

"You're flying! You're flying, Severus!" she shouted with cupped hands as the gryffin flew above her, mixing flapping with gliding and making lazy circles over her head, looking down at her. Then suddenly, he turned and flew out of the stadium.

"Severus!" Hermione cried out in alarm.

But the wizard was feeling his liberation, his power as he flew over the grounds of Hogwarts, over and around the castle, past the Herbology center and over the lake. He could see students like ants on the grounds, running and pointing up at him. He squawked in delight and did a perfect loopty loop for them before continuing on.

He flew higher and caught a thermal, gliding through the skies, a king of the air. He had never felt so whole, so free as if the entire world was his dominion. He could go anywhere, do anything—

Hermione stood twisting her hands and looking up at the sky. It was starting to get dark and the torches around the pitch lit up.

"Where is he?" she breathed, hoping he hadn't crashed. He should have stayed in the pitch and practiced rather than just go flying off the way he did. Suddenly, there was a whoosh of wings behind her and she turned to see the gryffin, looking at her as it folded its wings and slowly walked toward her.

"How was it?" she asked the beast, who turned back to an excited, flushed Severus Snape. He wore a big smile.

"Indescribable, Hermione. The most beautiful experience of my life," he said, extending his arms and pretending to glide, moving about, his robes billowing.

Hermione watched him and just knew that in his original life, Snape had never billowed about, pretending to fly. She smiled at him as he indulged himself for a few moments, then suddenly stopped and walked up to her, grabbing both her hands in his own.

"You have to come with me," he said to her. "You have to experience it, Hermione. It's—it's too fantastic for words."

Hermione blinked at him.

"What?"

"I want you to come with me. Ride on my back. You can hold on to my neck. I'll stay low at first."

"No! I'm scared to death of flying, Severus. You know that! Riding a gryffin bareback? Oh no. There's no possible way I'd do that!" she told him.

"I'll—I'll have a saddle made. We'll go back to my quarters and you can take my measurements, he said enthusiastically. "And it will be charmed so the rider can't fall off. That would work, wouldn't it? Your fear is of falling, not flying. This way, you don't have to worry. Show some courage. You are a Gryffindor, despite how Slytherin you act."

He was still gripping her hands, all excitement and exuberance. He could fly and he wanted to share that with Hermione. She had been there for it all. She just had to agree and see what it was like.

"Besides, it would be extra fodder for your paper," he pressed. "First hand research."

"All right," she said softly. "If you get a magic saddle, I'll fly with you, Severus."

The wizard let out a whoop and whirled a startled Hermione around.

"You're going to love it," he breathed, stopping. He looked down at her.

"This is the greatest day of my life," he said softly. Then, before Hermione could say anything, he kissed her quickly on the mouth, turned back into a gryffin and took off running. He leapt into the air again and flew happily around the Quidditch pitch.

Hermione looked up at him, bringing her fingertips to her lips, which still tingled from the brief contact.

"Merlin," she breathed.

* * *

They returned to the castle a bit early, Snape still excited about his ability to fly. He was all smiles as they walked through the castle. He and Hermione entered his quarters, where he transformed. They spent the next hour getting his proper measurements, with Hermione drawing him and adding the proper dimension lines as a guide for the leathersmith who would create the saddle. Snape turned back and looked at her work with satisfaction.

"I'll take this down to the shop tomorrow," he told her, placing it on his desk. Nothing had been said about the kiss he'd given her. In fact, Snape had been so elated, the kiss practically hadn't registered for him at all. It had been reflexive.

But it registered with Hermione, who was wondering if she should make it a point to draw a line in the sand, to let him know he shouldn't act so familiarly with her. Stealing kisses. Really. She'd just broken up with Ron after all. It was—unseemly.

"Severus," she said softly, thinking she'd say something.

"Yes, Hermione?"

He looked so—so happy.

"I—I—"

"Yes?"

"I just want to say I'm really happy for you," she said, changing her mind. She didn't want to say or do anything to mar his moment of happiness. He'd had so few in his life.

"Thank you, Hermione," he replied, still smiling.

"You know, you never smiled when you were an adult. It's nice to see," she told him.

"I didn't have much to smile about then, did I?" he replied. "I'm starting to think that—that life is going to be—better this time. It can't possibly be worse."

"No," Hermione agreed with a soft smile. "It certainly can't."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	29. When Emotions Run High

**Chapter 28 ~ When Emotions Run High**

Hermione didn't go out with Severus for the rest of the week. Instead, they spent about two hours studying together in the evening, then Snape would go out on his own. The saddle wouldn't be ready until Saturday, so Hermione couldn't accompany him, and he wanted to explore. So, they both benefited from the break.

Still, that Thursday night, Hermione got a small taste of Snape's other magical skills. When she came to his quarters, he asked her would she mind helping him with a spell for his Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWTS.

"Sure," she said, interested, putting down her knapsack.

"All right," Snape said, moving the armchairs and small table out of the way and positioning Hermione directly on the hearth of the fireplace. It was lit and made the back of her legs very warm. She moved forward a little.

"No! Stay on the hearth! It's important!" Snape said to her sharply.

He then picked a book off one of the shelves. It was black with no writing on it.

"Now, don't open this book until I tell you to do it. You have to open the pages facing me," he instructed. "Don't look at the pages directly and stay on that hearth. Understand?"

Hermione nodded, holding the book and fighting the urge to open it.

Snape backed up and drew his wand, taking on a stance as if he were ready to swordfight.

He took a deep breath.

"All right. Open it!" he directed.

Hermione caught hold of both covers of the book and opened it toward him, then screamed as an enormous horned demon rushed out of it in a blast of black smoke and sulfur. It was glistening, scaled and sported huge, sharp fangs. It had a kind of dog face, smoke issuing from large black nostrils. It had a man's upper torso, but huge and muscular, and its lower half seemed to be nothing but smoke. It slung its arms about and roared, the power of its voice shaking the quarters, its black sharp claws flexing. Its red eyes fell on Severus and it launched itself at him, jaws gaping.

Hermione screamed again, dropping the book as the demon furiously bore down on the wizard before it.

" REDIMIO!" Snape cried, a stream of blue and white light pouring from the tip of his wand and surrounding the demon, holding it in place as it roared fruitlessly. Snape held it there firmly, light whirling around the monster as if it were encased in churning water. Snape's black eyes shifted to Hermione.

"Pick up the book and hold it open, Hermione!" he yelled over the creature's roaring.

Her hands shaking, Hermione did as he asked, her heart pounding.

"REVERTO!" Snape hissed, and the demon let out a tortured roar and was sucked back into the book. Hermione slammed it closed, trembling. Snape put away his wand, walked over and took it from her, replacing it in its proper place on the shelf.

He walked back to Hermione, who seemed cemented in place.

"You can move now," he said softly.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded as soon as she could speak.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course. You don't get much darker than angry, flesh-eating demons," he said. He had placed Hermione on the hearth because the heat of it camouflaged her body temperature. This species of demon didn't see well in the physical world but could sense Snape's living heat signature in the room. That was what it went for first.

Hermione could finally move and looked around at all the books, then back at Severus. She'd been going through them willy-nilly. It was only luck that something hadn't grabbed her.

"You have books that contain demons and didn't tell me?" she asked him, incensed.

He blinked at her.

"What? I thought you knew," he responded.

"I—I could have been killed!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, there is that, isn't there? Well, you weren't. That's what really matters in the end, isn't it?" he said unconcerned. He walked over to the desk and took out some parchment. Suddenly, he had a bad feeling and ducked as Hermione fired a stunner at him. It hit the desk harmlessly.

"Hey!" he cried, spinning, drawing his own wand and holding it defensively on the angry witch. Hermione's eyes glinted as she looked at him.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me how dangerous some of these books are!" she seethed at him, her wand still out offensively.

"I can't believe you didn't have the common sense to know that," he shot back at her. "You're a seventh year, not a first year, Hermione. You're taking DADA NEWTS too. One of the first things we learned in that class is to be careful with books."

Hermione lowered her wand, reddening.

"Yes—but I didn't think that you—"

Snape frowned at her.

"Hermione, you yourself told me I was a dark wizard. Why in the world wouldn't you think I had books of Dark Magic? Even I knew that."

"I don't know what I was thinking," she said, putting her wand away.

"You weren't thinking," Snape snapped at her, "and next time you fire a spell at me when my back is turned, be prepared to duel. I hate that. It's cowardly."

"What? I wasn't being cowardly, I was being reactive," Hermione retorted.

"I don't care. I've had enough sneak attacks pulled on me to last two lifetimes," he shot back at her, sitting down in one of the chairs at the desk, his jaw tight.

Hermione sat down next to the angry wizard and realized he was very upset about her firing a spell at him in that manner. She'd almost forgotten what his life had been like because he'd been so upbeat the past couple of days. She immediately regretted taking a shot at him.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said softly. "I didn't—"

"I thought I could trust you," he hissed, not looking at her.

Oh no. He wasn't going to make a little anger shot a trust issue. No way. She hadn't even hit him.

"What? You can trust me! Severus, I didn't do that out of malice. I was just pissed off I could have been carried off by a demon and you didn't tell me," she responded. "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

Snape kept scowling.

"Stop acting like I was hiding behind a tree or something waiting for you to pass so I could get the drop on you. I'm not a Marauder. The Marauders are all dead! Even friends hex each other from time to time. It's completely natural," Hermione told him, getting angry now.

Severus really needed to grow up.

"Not for me," he said. "Anytime I had to use a spell on someone, it was to protect myself, or in retribution for something done earlier."

"You never once hexed Lily?" Hermione asked him curiously.

Snape looked at her wide-eyed.

"Hex Lily? Oh, no. She was murder with a wand," he said. "Besides, she would have stopped being my friend if I did something like that. She even hated when I blasted roses. Not to mention James Potter and his group. She used to tell me to 'ignore' them, like they'd go away. They never did, and she basically joined them."

Snape looked miserable again, and Hermione was sorry that she brought Lily up.

"Well, you're going to have to learn how to hex people in a friendly kind of way," she told him. "You don't have to hurt them. You can stun them, levitate them, make them dance. A lot of things that aren't painful or deadly. What fun is magic if you can't turn it on a friend sometimes?"

"I've never had any friends to hex," Snape said softly, looking at her.

"Harry's a good target, but he knows how to scramble. If he sees you getting a bead on him, he's off. Ron's easier, but he retaliates the minute he throws the spell off, then starts a duel. He just has to throw the final spell, even if he misses. It's like the last word or something with him."

Snape thought he wouldn't mind hexing Ron just to see him turn red enough to match his flaming hair. Even Harry sounded fun. His eyes began to narrow a little, and a wicked smirk crossed his pale face.

"But—you have to have a reason to do it," Hermione added. "You just can't hex them for entertainment."

"I knew there was a catch," Snape responded, feeling better. Hermione had just been upset when she tried to stun him. She didn't really mean any harm.

"Come on, let's get to work."

Hermione opened her Arithmancy book, then looked at Snape.

"Oh, and Severus?"

"Hm?" he replied, opening his own book.

"Next time I'm going to let a flesh-eating demon out of a book or anything else with the potential to steal my immortal soul, please take a moment to tell me. That's something a witch would like to know," she said tightly, not wanting to start another fight.

"I'll try and keep that in mind," he responded shortly.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she snapped back, then got down to work.

* * *

Hermione spent her Saturday as usual, tutoring students, although she would have preferred to be studying herself. She was on Harry and Ron like a Niffler on gold, scolding them.

"Just because I'm not around during the week doesn't mean you two can skive off of your studies," she said after giving them a small oral quiz that covered several subjects. "You both should have done better than that. I'm going to make a study schedule for the both of you immediately. It's obvious you can't be trusted to your own devices."

Ron and Harry took the browbeating stoically. Hermione always yelled at them no matter what they did. If they got good marks on her tests, she simply would say she needed to make them harder. There was no praise or anything. She was just as hard a case as Snape had been, just nicer about being a study Nazi.

When their tutoring period was over, Ron asked Hermione how many hours she'd scheduled for socializing.

"Four hours," she said, looking a little guilty.

"Wow, four hours? That's a lot of time. Meet us at three on the Quidditch pitch?" Harry asked her.

"Yes," she said, but Ron sensed there was more to this. Four hours really was a lot of time.

"Is Snape coming?" he asked Hermione.

"I think so," she responded. Then she just came out with it.

"I've scheduled four hours of free time, but I'm only going to spend two hours with you. Actually, if you really look at it, it really isn't free time. It's—it's kind of study time."

Ron frowned at her.

"So, how are you going to spend the other two hours?" Ron asked her.

"ImgoingflyingwithSeverus," she mumbled.

"What?" Ron demanded. Harry looked at him, frowning slightly.

"I'm going to go flying with Severus in his gryffin form. He had a magical saddle made that will hold me in place so I won't fall. It's supposed to arrive today. I'll be documenting the flight," she said.

"Cool!" Harry said, wondering if he could get a ride, too, after the novelty wore off.

"That's not cool," Ron said. "It's dangerous. He hasn't even been flying a full week, Hermione. You might not fall out of the saddle but you could still crash with him."

"Ron, he flies fine. His gryffin instincts take over. He's safe as a broom. Safer really since he can tell when trouble's coming."

"Wow, you think he'd let us watch at least?" Harry asked. "I want to see his form."

"I'll ask him tomorrow," she said. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"No, why would he mind showing off?" Ron said bitterly. "I'm going back to Gryffindor tower. I need to practice some more."

And Ron walked off bad-temperedly.

"What's wrong with Ron?" Hermione asked Harry, although she had a pretty good idea.

"He's jealous of Snape's Animagus form, I think. Or maybe you," Harry replied.

"Me? Why would he be jealous of me when he ended our relationship? Do you think he's having second thoughts?"

Hermione hoped not. She was enjoying being able to do as she liked study-wise. If Ron asked her back out, she'd have to turn him down. She didn't want to hurt him that way.

Harry shook his head.

"No, not second thoughts. It's just—just that he sees how well you and Snape get along and is having a hard time with it. It's like you are willing to spend more time with Snape than you were with him—"

"But it's constructive time, Harry. I get something out of it that will help me make the marks I want. It isn't socializing, not really. We work hard, believe me. I'm still getting all my work done and extra. I've also got a great presentation for my Transfiguration NEWTS and access to Severus' library. I already have four more outlines for presentations in my other subjects. And—and I don't have to feel guilty about how much time I devote to studying now. It's like a weight's been lifted off of me. Working with Severus is just good for me all around."

"I know, Hermione. But, it's still hard for Ron to accept. He really had big hopes for the both of you. That's not something that just goes away. He also cares about you, too. Snape's like the new guy in town, a new guy that you spend time with every day, more time than you did with Ron. It doesn't help that Snape is a cool Animagus, either. Ron's actually trying to find his own form. That's what he's going to do now."

"Ron's trying to find his form? That can take years," Hermione said.

"He's hoping it goes a bit faster," Harry replied, not wanting to tell Hermione about the book he'd purchased. It was funny to him, but for some reason he didn't want to see Hermione laugh about it.

It would be kind of cruel.

* * *

"Bloody Snape," Ron hissed in his room as he paced back and forth.

"I'm going flying with Snape and documenting EVERYTHING," he said in a mimicking nasal voice, meant to sound like Hermione.

He kicked over the wooden chair in the corner.

"A magic saddle. Why doesn't he join the fucking circus and give out rides there, the show-off? So what if he's a gryffin, the bastard? It's not fair. It's just not fair. He just turns young, walks into our lives and takes Hermione. Just—takes her away with his bloody books and private quarters and big brain and Animagus form and—gah! I can't stand him! I've got to find my form if it—"

Suddenly, Ron felt dizzy as if the room were bending around him, and there was a loosening inside him that was sickening, as if he was falling fast through space. He began to shudder, his eyes rolling up. He was scared to death! What was happening to him?

Everything went black.

* * *

Ron awakened on the floor, feeling strange. He stood up and his legs didn't seem to work right and he felt off-center. Had he had some kind of seizure? He probably needed to go see Poppy. He walked over to the mirror with a rather odd gait to look at himself.

He screamed at what looked back at him, only it came out more like a screech and a whoop combined.

Suddenly, Ron was looking at himself again. He felt himself all over to make sure everything was the way it should be. He looked back at the mirror, slightly horrified. He never expected anything like that.

"Oh Merlin," he said, dropping on his bed, and rubbing his face. It itched a little. Probably from the hair that had been there. He'd found his animal form. It hadn't taken seven days. Only four and a bit of rage at Snape.

Yes, he'd found his Animagus form, but he just wasn't sure he'd ever share it.

He sat there, wondering what the hell kind of connection he could have with such an animal? He decided to go down to the library and look it up. There had to be something.

Ron walked through the halls of the castle in somewhat of a dazed state. Well, his theory about intent seemed to be right. It hadn't taken him years, just focus and a bit of angry release. By cursing all things Snape, he'd hit the primal level that released the magic of the Animagi.

* * *

Ron stared at the book open in front of him, reading. Well, the beast was considered very intelligent for its species and the largest that occupied its particular environment. It used tools, and had good problem solving skills. Well, that wasn't so bad as far as animals went. It was very strong too, so that was a plus. Maybe that was the connection, the problem-solving. Ron was a good strategist after all.

His blue eyes drifted downward and he found another small definition under the animal's name, but it didn't refer to the animal.

It referred to a chess move of the same name that was used by masters. Ron's best game was his chess game. As he read the entry about the Sokolsky Opening, he knew in his gut this was the form he was meant to have.

Another name for the famous "Sokolsky Opening," was "_the Orangutan_."

* * *

A/N: lolol! Thanks for reading.


	30. Gifts of the Animagi

**Chapter 29 ~ Gifts of the Animagi**

After penning a quick outline, Ron immediately went upstairs to the Headmistresses office to pre-certify his additional credit topic for the Transfiguration NEWTS. Unlike Hermione, Ron didn't get many great topic ideas, and needed to protect his interests and lock in his topic first. That way, even if someone else did similar work for their NEWTS, Ron's work would be recognized as being the first paper on that topic submitted. It didn't mean he'd have the highest marks but he would get credit for introducing the subject matter first.

The title of his presentation was direct and simple enough:

Intent and Its Effect on the Animagus Transformation Timeline.

He handed the sealed envelope to the Headmistress. No one but the testers from the Ministry would open it and read his outline and the date it was submitted. The only bad part about it was once a paper was pre-certified, it could only cover what was outlined. No more and no less. So pre-certification was a way to protect your topic but very limiting. Hermione would never do it.

"Quite an interesting title, Mr. Weasley," Minerva said with approval. We've had a few presentations of this nature, but nothing really new. Do you think you have something that can change that?"

"Maybe," Ron said with a smile. "But telling you what it is would just ruin the surprise. Oh, and can I have a Ministry Animagus Registration Form?"

Minerva gasped.

"You've, you've found your form, Mr. Weasley? I wasn't even aware that you had been trying. You must have been working on it from at least your fourth or fifth year. And through all of your adventures! Why didn't you tell me? You would have gotten bonus points in class. All aspiring Animagi get that benefit."

"I didn't know that," Ron said, not wanting to let her know how short a time it took him.

"Well, what is your form?" she pressed.

"Er—I'm going to keep it to myself for now, Headmistress. Hope you don't mind," the wizard said.

Minerva looked disappointed, but he did have ten days to register now that she knew he had an Animagus form.

"Very well, Mr. Weasley, but don't let the registration date pass, or you will either pay a heavy fine, or cool your heels in the Ministry jail for a few days," she said warningly, sliding the form over to him.

"Thanks," Ron said, folding, then tucking the form into his pocket and leaving her office.

There. Now he had at least one good topic for a NEWT. Hermione wouldn't have to stay on his back about this one. He was going to drive her crazy with it by not telling her what he was presenting, but how great it was. That ought to be fun or at least a little entertaining. Hermione hated being left out of any loop, no matter how small.

Ron returned to Gryffindor tower. Harry wasn't back yet. More than likely he and Ginny were spending some quality time together. Ron pulled out a notepad and a Muggle pencil, sat down on his bed and tried to sketch an orangutan.

Ron never made an OWL in the Care of Magical Creatures class, and didn't really focus when Hagrid was teaching the actual sketching of beasts. At his OWLS, he was supposed to draw a dragon based on an example provided for the students, which was actually a petrified dragon that got on the wrong end of a Gorgon.

Ron's sketch didn't look like a dragon. It looked more like a dog with a very long neck, and very much in need of a good dentist.

"What is this?" the tester had asked him.

His sketch of the orangutan was no better. He didn't dare transform in case Harry was to walk in. More than likely he was going to have to get someone else to draw him. Hermione probably wouldn't do it. She was too "busy" with Severus and her studies. But there were others who he could ask. Neville was a fair sketcher, and so was Lavender Brown.

Since reading about the animal, Ron felt a little better about his form. It was just seeing it for the first time that shocked him. Orangutans might be very intelligent, but they certainly didn't look it.

Ron's stomach gurgled. He felt hungry, and had a strong craving for a fruit salad.

* * *

At nine that evening, Hermione showed up at Snape's quarters and let herself in. The wizard had altered his ward to recognize her signature, so she could enter and leave as she wished. She was surprised to find him in his study. She thought he'd be out flying. He wasn't. He was feeding a plant. It looked like a Venus Flytrap, but the head was huge, and the jagged edges around the seam looked quite hard. Snape was slapping it with the body of a dead rat he was holding by the tail.

"Open up you stupid plant," he hissed at it. "I don't have all night."

"Severus? Is that a Hell's Guardian?" she asked him.

Snape turned to look at her and grimaced.

"Yes, it is, and it's living up to its name and giving me hell."

"It's huge. I've never seen one over one foot tall before."

"I developed a special soil treatment in my third year, and by my fifth, I'd adapted it for carnivorous plants. It speeds growth and increases size. It helped me get an Outstanding in my OWL for Herbology," he explained. He didn't see the plant lean toward his leg and open its jaws, a substance like saliva, but thicker dripping down the jagged edges of its open maw. "The only problem with it is that the quality of the plants meant to be used for ingredients suffers because of the quick development. But it's good for ornamental plants."

"Severus! Look out!" Hermione yelled, and the wizard jumped out of the way just as the plant tried to take a bite out of him.

"Blasted thing! If I didn't need it for my NEWTS, I'd chop it up right now," he hissed, frowning at the plant, which straightened and managed to look quite disappointed for something that didn't actually have a face. He held out the rat again, and the plant actually twisted away and upward as if sticking its nose in the air.

"Fine. Starve then. I'm going to plant another of you tomorrow," Snape said to it. "I've got plenty of time before the NEWTS to grow another."

Snape threw the dead rat into the fire in the fireplace, picked up a burlap sack that was resting on the floor, then wrestled it over the plant. He pointed his wand at the squirming cloth bag. .

"Portis," he said, and the sack flashed blue and disappeared.

"Stupid plant," he muttered.

"Where did you send it?" Hermione asked curiously.

Out to the Herbology center. Professor Sprout gave me a little space in exchange for some of my soil enhancing potion. She's working on the plant potency issue. She says it could be a boon to ingredients production if tweaked.

"Severus, this soil-enhancing potion and that salve you made for Filch, you could make money from them," Hermione said to him.

"Bartleby already has them and is working on the patents for me," Snape informed her, "as well as several other original creations. I'm getting them all locked in before I sign on with Lord Malfoy. He won't be recouping any money off of them."

Hermione put down her knapsack.

"Lord Malfoy?" she repeated.

"Yes. He's going to be my patron so I can pursue my experiments with potions," Snape said.

"Your patron?" Hermione said, a little enviously. When she left school, she was going to have to work for a living. She would probably find employment in fields that she enjoyed, but it would be marvelous to have the time just to focus on whatever one wanted. "How did you manage that?"

"He approached me," Snape said, picking up his robes from the sofa and putting them on. He didn't use the charm, but started buttoning them by hand. He found he enjoyed the slow, methodical closing of the fabric around him. He was filling out, too. Without the Marauders around to upset his digestion, he was eating more. He was still lean, but he was putting on pounds.

"Well, you did save Draco," she said to him. "He probably feels he owes you."

"Perhaps, but Malfoy is a Slytherin. He smells money. He said the first time around I used my abilities for Tom Riddle for next to nothing, but I was provided with everything I needed to develop my skills. Malfoy wants to do the same thing, but make a profit. It's a win-win situation really. Or will be once my solicitor has the terms drawn up."

Hermione was very interested.

"What else is he giving you?" she asked.

Snape continued buttoning his robes.

"Room, board, that kind of thing," he said.

"Will you be staying at his manor?" Hermione asked him.

Snape shook his head.

"No. I don't feel like being watched twenty-four hours a day, or even seeing him too much if I can help it. Just because he's giving me a leg up doesn't mean he can hover over me like he owns me. No one owns me," Snape said a bit tightly.

Hermione couldn't help thinking that if Severus had another way to get by and learn his art, he'd do it. It was a marvelous situation, but there were limiting conditions.

"Still, it's a wonderful opportunity, Severus. A lot of people would give a limb to have your situation, including me," she said softly.

Snape finished buttoning his robes and looked at her. He was about to reply to her, but suddenly stiffened, a perplexed look on his face.

Hermione looked down at herself to see if anything was wrong. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. She looked up at him.

"What's wrong?"

Snape stood there, and she noticed his nostrils pulsating. It wasn't that hard to miss actually, because he had rather large nostrils when you paid attention to them.

"I can smell you," he said.

"Smell me?"

"Yes."

Hermione blinked at him.

"What do I smell like?"

Snape slowly walked toward her and stopped about a foot away, sniffing. Then, he slowly walked around her. Hermione stood very still, feeling a bit of queasiness in her belly as he invaded her personal space, inhaling her scent, his eyes closing from time to time. His face was very close to hers now and she could feel his warmth as he scented her. Then he straightened.

"You smell of several things. Soap. Parchment. Leather. Ink," he said softly, "and something else I can't identify, but, it changed when I moved closer to you. The scent intensified. The best way I can explain it is how the smell of ingredients become a bit—sharper when the flame is turned up under them."

Hermione swallowed. What an analogy.

"It's getting sharper," he said. "It's—it's very compelling. Very—female. That's what it is—female."

"We need to get to work, Severus. We're wasting time," she said softly, turning to walk to the desk, but Snape gently caught her arm.

"Are we really, Hermione?" he asked her, drawing her back to him, his dark eyes intense as they rested on her mouth.

Hermione's heart began to race as he closed his eyes and inhaled again. Then his eyes opened again, a question in them now.

"Do I turn up a flame under you, Hermione Granger?" he asked with a hint of the silkiness of his older self's beautiful voice.

Hermione felt as if she couldn't breathe, he was so intense, so close—so---

"Do I?"

"Stop," Hermione said weakly. "I've just broken up with Ron and—"

"Ron has nothing to do with this," Snape replied. "I can smell your attraction to me. I think this explains why Potter and his cronies could always find me. They were Animagi and knew my scent—knew it the way I now know yours—"

"Don't" Hermione breathed.

"Kiss me," Snape said softly. "It's all over you. The desire to do it. And it's all over me. I won't force you but I'm asking you to do it—because it's what you want. I want it, too. Don't be afraid—"

Snape drew her closer, holding her against him lightly. He was gentle, his lips pursed.

"Do it, Hermione," he breathed at her.

Hermione's eyes were frightened as she looked at him. She wasn't afraid of him, exactly, but what it would mean if she did kiss him, and more, what it could lead to. She was never this—easy. But he was right. She wanted to kiss him. But—

"No! No! I can't—why are you doing this to me? We have something good here—uncomplicated—" she gasped, pulling back from him. He gave her some leeway but didn't let her go.

"It's always been complicated, Hermione," he said softly. "From the day my life changed and I lost everything I knew, you've been here. It hasn't been that long time-wise—a week or two at the most--I know. But these have been the best days of my life, and without you—adjusting would have been that much harder—without you, I would have been lost. How do you think that makes me feel about you? Yes, it's complicated, and I'm sorry—but it is what it is and what's happening is happening—"

He inhaled her scent again.

"It's—just nature, Hermione, No one, not even Lily, showed me the understanding and support you do. I'm not used to this feeling, and I don't want to lose it—I want—I want to get closer to it, to embrace it, to feel it wrap around me—"

There was such longing in his voice, such need, such—honesty. But--

Suddenly, Hermione pulled away from him.

"I can't kiss you—I can't let this happen. My work—"

"You'll do your work. It won't suffer—everything would be the same—"

"Not everything—" Hermione said softly.

"No, not everything," he agreed, "but some things. I'm not asking you to change anything about who you are, or what you do, or even what you want out of life, Hermione. I'm simply asking you to act on what you're feeling at this moment. Just this moment. Not tomorrow, or next week, or next month—just right now. All I want—is right now. Please."

Hermione looked into the wizard's eyes and saw the desire and hope inside him reflected back at her, and at that moment, they connected. She felt him, really felt him. He was magnetic, the positive to her negative, the yang to her yin. There was no way to stop this moment.

Everything seemed to slow and warp around Hermione as she stepped into the wizard's gentle embrace, her lips meeting his.

It was as if the world had suddenly—stopped.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	31. The Ride

**Chapter 30 ~ The Ride**

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When Hermione's mouth met Snape's soft lips, it was as if all the warmth that ever existed in the world came crashing down, covering her completely. It was as if she'd never feel coldness again.

She didn't feel the awkwardness of the kiss, or Snape's inexperience. It didn't register how she had to move her lips against his to get the proper reaction, the proper movement, because he caught on so quickly, his need for closeness mirroring her own.

All Hermione Granger felt was—perfection. Glorious perfection.

There was no tongue, only a sweet connection of mouths, soft flesh against soft flesh, shifting, suckling, puckering, pulling, never breaking contact as if even a moment apart would shatter them both.

She was so aware of him. How slender he was against her body, and how his hair smelled faintly of sandalwood, spicy, compelling. How warm he was, how his breathing was becoming faster and his arms tightening. How he seemed to spin with her as if they were both in orbit, circling around the axis of their kiss.

Kissing Ron had never felt like this. It had been pleasant. Sometimes even hot and quaky, but there was never this sense of—just being right. It never felt as if her lips left his that the world itself would fall away.

But it did have to end, and everything inside her protested as Snape's kissing turned slow and lingering, like something winding down that she wanted to rewind. When he gently pulled away, her lips insistently followed that retreating softness, that wonderful connection. But he was taller than she was and the kiss was broken.

Snape looked down at her, his dark eyes seeming wet, and Hermione realized they were quaking against each other. He didn't release her.

"You kiss good," he said softly. "Not that I have anyone else to compare you to, Hermione. But I think—even if I did there would be no comparison. That was—intoxicating. I'm light-headed."

Hermione smiled at him.

"It was a nice kiss," she agreed.

Snape continued to stare at her.

"I have to ask you, Hermione—is my virtue in any danger?" he asked her softly, and that was when Hermione felt his growing erection against her.

It was pretty big, too. She pulled back a bit and let out a little, controlled breath as their bodies disconnected.

"Ah—no, it's not," she said, blushing furiously.

"Pity," he breathed, then released her. "I wouldn't put up much of a fight, you know. You could easily overcome me. A few more kisses like that and I'd be limp as a Flubberworm."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him at this statement, trying not to look down at the very noticeable bulge under his robes.

"Somehow—I doubt that very much, Severus," she replied.

He quirked his lips at her.

"We're compatible," he said. "You kissed me and the world didn't come crashing down, did it?"

"No, it didn't Severus. It was a very nice kiss, but totally inappropriate. I've only known you for—well, not counting when you were an adult, but just a few days. I'm not usually like this—I don't—I don't do this. Just kiss wizards within days of—"

"You've known me for years," Snape said.

"Not like this. I knew you when—when you had nothing like this in mind. You would have never asked me for a kiss—"

"Yet, you wanted me to ask you, in your fantasies—"

"Don't bring that up, Severus. That doesn't matter any longer. That Severus is gone—"

"But this Severus is here, and not nearly so—inaccessible," he told her. "Just keep that in mind, Hermione. I'm here for you whenever you need me. However you need me."

He could still scent her desire for him, but he didn't want to press and risk driving her away from him. At least this time it wasn't a guessing game. With Lily, there was always hope and hopelessness—never knowing. Not until she broke away from him and went with Potter.

Now, here was Hermione. Brilliant, brave, loyal and dedicated to whatever she believed worthwhile. There was nothing about her that was flighty. Nothing about her that said abandonment. Preoccupation, yes. But he understood that because he had the same tendency to be taken over by whatever he was focused on.

He sighed then.  
He sighed because once again he was attracted to a Gryffindor. At least this time he didn't hide his feelings. He'd learned from that mistake. Hermione Granger would never have to guess how he felt. He'd told her and shown her. The rest—the rest would be up to her.

"I want to show you something," he said softly, walking past her and over to his writing desk. There was a large object on the desk, covered with a Slytherin green sheet. He caught the end of it and flipped it off.

Hermione's eyes widened as they rested on the saddle. She hurried over.

"Oh, Severus. It's beautiful," she said.

The saddle was the color of honey and shined brightly.

"But, it doesn't look like a regular saddle," Hermione added, cocking her head at the unfamiliar design.

"It's made for comfort," he told her. "I told the shopkeeper that it was possible it would be used for hours and showed him my Animagus form. He looked as if he was going to pass out, but once he recovered, he was very excited. He re-measured me, just to make sure he had the perfect dimensions.

"It's different than a regular saddle that you'd put on, say, a horse."

He pointed to the saddle.

"See, it has three sections. The trees and the pad. The trees move independently and will allow the saddle to flex as I move. There'll be no chafing when I turn or run or fly. Those parts are made of wood and covered with a strong magical epoxy, then leather, all for added strength and durability," Snape said. "You'll be sitting between them, directly on the pad on my back. There are no bulky riggings and your legs won't rub or chafe either. It naturally will put you in the proper riding position. A very good saddle and worth every Galleon."

"And it has a sticking charm?" Hermione asked him a bit nervously. She had flown on a hippogriff and a Thestral before, but never alone. There had been another person with her both times.

"Yes. I tested it by placing a ball on the seat and swinging the saddle around. Even upside down, the ball didn't fall off. There is also a weightlessness charm on it so I won't feel your weight, although I'm sure I could carry you without that. You don't look as if you weigh that much."

Hermione flushed. She was a little thick around the thighs and hips and felt she was a bit overweight. Severus didn't seem to notice the imperfections.

"Best of all, I can wear it as a gryffin and it will disappear when I resume human form, much as my clothes do when I turn into my animal form. So, I can always be 'saddle-ready' for you."

Snape's lip quirked a little as he said this. Hermione didn't miss the double-entendre either. She didn't say anything as she looked at the saddle.

"So, are you ready to ride me?" Snape asked her, and she looked up at him shocked.

"I'm ready to go riding tomorrow, if that's what you mean," she told him a bit indignantly. He was doing this on purpose, making sexual innuendoes and putting sex in the game.

"Why, what else could I possibly mean, Hermione?" he purred at her, a smile breaking out on his face at her discomfiture as she stalked past him to the desk and sat down.

"Let's just get to work, shall we?" she muttered at him, opening a book.

Still smiling, Snape joined her.

As Hermione looked through her books, trying to decide what to tackle first, Snape's eyes rested on her bushy hair.

"You know, your hair is extremely bushy," he observed.

Hermione scowled but didn't look at him.

"I know it's bushy. It's always bushy. That's how it is if I don't take hours whipping it into shape. I don't have time for that," she said. But she was starting to feel self-conscious.

"It's a pretty shade of brown," Snape said, not being complimentary, just stating the facts. He touched it lightly, rubbing a few strands between his fingertips.

"What are you doing?" Hermione said, then "OW!" as Snape yanked out a hair Hermione clapped her hand to her head.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him furiously as Snape stretched the strand out between his fingers, looking at it.

"Thinking," he replied, coiling up the strand and taking down a piece of scrap parchment from a cubby hole. He put the strand in the center and folded the parchment over it, putting it into his pocket.

Hermione frowned at him.

"You know, if you wanted a strand of my hair, you could have asked me. You'd better not use it for any Dark Magic experimentations," she growled at him.

Snape looked quite interested.

"Hm. I never thought about that possibility," he replied. "Maybe I can make a doll to compel you to do my nefarious bidding."

"and maybe you could spend a little quality time in the castle infirmary, with Poppy trying to remove the multitude of hexes you'd be covered with," she replied evenly

"Ooh. Temper," he said with a grin before opening his book.

The magic moment between them was over for now, but he was sure there would be others.

He'd wait. That was something he was good at.

* * *

At one o'clock the next afternoon, Hermione and Severus exited the dungeon area to find Harry, Ginny, Neville, a very sullen Ron and several other students waiting for them.

"Hi!" Harry said to Snape brightly, eyeing the saddle he had tucked under his arm.

"Potter," Snape said shortly, his black eyes resting on all the students looking at him curiously. Draco Malfoy was among them.

"Oh, Harry. I told you I'd ask him," Hermione said, scowling at him. "How did all these people find out?"

"Ask me what?" Snape inquired.

"Well, Harry wanted to watch us fly," she said, then frowned at the crowd. "I guess they want to watch too."

Snape looked around at the expectant faces, then shrugged.

"I don't care. It's a free sky," he said shortly, starting to walk for the doors.

Harry smiled and quickly followed, along with the other students. Everyone was chattering excitedly except Ron, who was the last one out the door.

Bloody showoff.

Originally, Snape was going to try and find some quiet area to take off from, but it didn't make any sense to do that anymore, since he had a crowd following him, and it was growing larger.

Hermione walked beside him, feeling a bit giddy at all the attention. She had to be the envy of everyone there.

"Will he be giving out rides?" one witch asked another.

Snape heard her and whirled.

"I'm not party pony. No one will be riding me except for Hermione Granger."

A few snickers greeted this statement and Hermione turned beet red.

Snape looked at her.

"Sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that," he said to her softly.

"You can't help it if half the Hogwarts' body has 'Filthy Minds!"

She said the last part very loud, but only elicited more snickering from the students as they all started walking again.

Ron didn't find it funny at all.

Snape suddenly stopped.

"This is as good a spot as any. Now, everyone back away except for—Potter and Weasley," he said.

Harry walked forward with a grin, and Ron looked a little surprised as he joined him.

"When I transform, I'd like you two to put the saddle on me and make sure it's secure. It's supposed to magically keep Hermione on, but it can still slide if not fitted properly. I don't want her slipping and ending up between my legs."

Some titters followed his statement and Hermione reddened again.

"Sorry," Snape called over to her.

"Gods, is everyone at Hogwarts a pig?" he asked Harry as he handed him the saddle.

"No, just mostly everyone. We are teenagers after all," Harry said with a grin.

Snape stood there for a moment, then transformed.

"Wow!"

"Whoa!"

"That's amazing!"

The crowd murmured loudly as they looked at the white gryffin staring back at them majestically. Snape opened his wings and fluttered them a bit, giving the people what they wanted before letting out a sharp cry.

Ron had to admit, it really was a marvelous form. And for some reason, he suddenly didn't feel so jealous of Snape. Maybe it was because he'd never been popular before and seeing everyone cheering and admiring him probably for the first time in his life, made Ron feel a little guilty about begrudging him that. Ron had been cheered for plenty of times, and was quite popular. Snape had always been an underdog. Now, he was finally getting a chance to know what it was like to be openly admired by others.

He deserved that. He really did. Everyone should know what that's like at least once in their life.

Ron wasn't a bad sort really. He was just selfish and thoughtless sometimes, until he got things right in his head.

"Come on, Ron," Harry said, approaching the gryffin, excitement in his eyes. Ron walked on the other side of him. Everyone watched as they strapped the strange looking saddle on him.

"Wow, his fur is soft," Harry said, caressing Snape's flank.

Suddenly, Snape turned and snapped at him, squawking angrily

"I think that translates into "don't touch me there, you fruit!" Neville called to Harry as everyone cracked up, including Hermione.

Snape's feathers were fluffed in indignation. Harry caressing his flank was the equivalent of caressing his bum. Oh no. He wasn't going for that. Next time, he'd lose some fingers.

Ron and Harry tested the saddle by tugging on it, then Ron himself helped Hermione get on.

"Stay safe," he said to his former girlfriend.

"He doesn't have any reins. How's she supposed to steer him?" a voice cried out from the crowd.

"He can bloody understand her, you dimwit!" Ron yelled back. "He's not a real gryffin. He's human."

Murmurs went up.

The gryffin stood tall and looked back at Hermione.

"Squawww?"

"Yes, I'm ready, Severus," Hermione said, her heart pounding.

Snape took off running, the students all running after him as he bounded across the grounds.

"He's beautiful, Ginny breathed, her eyes wide as he streaked along, Hermione on his back the wind blowing her hair back as she leaned forward, exhilarated as they flew along the ground. He was so fast, so strong—

"Faster!" Hermione cried, and Snape squawked and pouring on more speed, the landscape streaking by them as they ran toward the cliff that the castle sat on. Hermione became alarmed as it loomed before them.

"Severus, what are you doing?" she cried as the gryffin continued to run toward the drop. It was a long one, with many jagged stones at the bottom.

"Severus! Wait! Not the cliffs!" she screamed.

If the saddle wasn't magical, Hermione might have jumped off, despite how fast Snape was running.

"Stop! Severus! Noooooo!" she cried as the gryffin came to the edge and leapt into the open air, wings spread.

Hermione closed her eyes at the sickening initial jerk of the wings catching air, then, it felt ok. She opened one eye and then the other.

They were flying over the crashing surf, the clouds above them seeming close enough to touch, the sun's rays shining through. A few sea birds joined them as they soared. Snape looked back at her, his black eyes glittering. He gave a little squawk.

"Yes," she said softly, looking at him, "it is beautiful, Severus."

From the grounds, the students all watched Snape and Hermione grow smaller and smaller until they were nothing more than a dot on the horizon.

"Hermione Granger has to be the luckiest witch in the world," someone sighed.

Ron heard it, and felt his belly tighten a little, but, it wasn't so bad. It wasn't easy to watch someone else make your ex-girlfriend happier than you could—but-- it was easy to accept someone else making a cherished friend very happy.

Ron wisely decided that the "happy cherished friend" was what he should focus on.

It was better that way.

* * *

A/N: I hope no one found the chapter title—er—misleading. Lololol. Thanks for reading.


	32. An Interesting Excursion

**Chapter 31 ~ An Interesting Excursion**

Her hair streaming, Hermione smiled as Snape glided through the skies with her, turning so they were heading for the green -grey mountains in the distance. The sun sparkled off the water below them and the sea birds cried and wheeled around them like a winged guard, attracted by Snape's form. Hermione had to wonder at this, because Snape was a raptor, and all prey birds avoided raptors. Maybe they somehow knew they were safe.

They had been flying for about an hour, passing through the misty cloudbanks. Hermione had to cast a warming charm on herself when they went higher. Snape felt her shivering and lowered their altitude. He didn't do any fancy maneuvers or swoop down close to the water. He wanted to impress Hermione, but felt she was impressed enough for a first flight. He did go close to the mountains and Hermione appreciated their majestic beauty.

She wasn't doing much documentation, that was for certain, but felt very safe with Severus. He had human intelligence after all, so she didn't have to worry about controlling him.

"I didn't think I'd enjoy this so much!" Hermione called out over the wind.

Snape heard her and squawked.

"I can see why you were so elated," she said as they flew upward, passing a group of caves in the mountainside. Suddenly, the sea birds all streaked away.

"What? Why are they leaving?" Hermione said, looking perplexed. They flew away so quickly it was like the birdie Devil was after them.

Suddenly, Snape scented something sulfurous and wheeled around sharply, Hermione wrenching in the seat as he, too, streaked away. Even though she couldn't fall, Hermione leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his lower neck, hanging on.

Snape squawked desperately, and Hermione had no idea why until she heard a roar and looked back.

They were being pursued by—by a dragon!

"Fly faster!" she screamed as the winged beast flapped after them, roaring. Luckily, it was a young dragon, but it still was fast and hungry. Usually it didn't bother hunting birds, because it took too much work to catch and fill up on them. But a gryffin would make a nice meal.

Snape's animal instincts took over and he dived just as the dragon flamed, missing them. But the beast twisted mid-air and followed them down. Snape changed direction and desperately flew toward the mountain face, hoping to turn off and make the dragon hit the stone, but the young dragon realized the ruse and turned off, following Snape's curve.

The gryffin was doing a fair job of avoidance, but the dragon's flame was building again and he couldn't out fly it. Hermione realized it and knew she had to do something and pulled out her wand.

"Severus, you've got to fly toward it, before its flame builds up. I'll hex it!" she cried.

Severus squawked, but instead of turning and flying straight at the dragon, he began streaking toward the ground in a dive. The dragon followed.

Hermione screamed as the earth zoomed up to meet them.

"What are you doing! We're going to crash!" she cried, beating Snape around the neck with her fists and pulling on his feathers.

Then he looked back and shrieked viciously at Hermione, shocking her before looking at the dragon pointedly. He wanted her to do something! The ground was coming up fast.

Hermione twisted around in the saddle and took a steadying breath as Snape shrieked at her again. They were going to hit the ground if she didn't hurry. The dragon's sides were swelling as it prepared to flame again. It would be sure to hit them since it was right behind them.

Hermione shouted a hex, flicking and swishing her wand at the dragon, which let out a roar and misguided flame, then began writhing. Snape swooped upward, barely pulling out of the dive in time, but the dragon continued to fall, unable to see because Hermione had hit it with the Conjunctivitis Curse. The beast crashed into the ground and lay still as they flapped away

Her heart pounding, Hermione gulped down air as if she hadn't taken a breath in hours. Snape however was flying rather quickly back toward the school. Next time, he'd make sure to take a look at a map before just taking flight. He'd inadvertently flew into dragon territory and it could have cost them their lives. He was hurrying because usually where there was one dragon, there were others. He knew he reached safe airspace when the seabirds rejoined them.

Hermione had been frightened but felt strangely exhilarated. She hadn't been in any real danger since the final battle, and to be honest, she had missed the rush. Not that she'd like to be chased by a hungry dragon every day, but it had been very exciting. And, she had saved them.

"Well, that was interesting," she said to the gryffin, which made an angry noise in response. He was mad because she started beating him up mid-dive instead of hexing the dragon. How did she ever survive a war?

Soon Hogwarts castle was in view and Snape made a beeline for it. A smattering of students was waiting, but not nearly as many as before. Ron, Harry and Ginny were gone. Snape landed and let Hermione off before transforming back to human form. His face was pinched as he eyed her angrily.

"You were supposed to attack the dragon, not me," he hissed at her.

The students all listened, shocked. They'd run into a dragon? And survived? Wow.

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Well, I didn't know what you were doing! I told you to fly at the dragon, not take us into a death dive!" she shot back at him.

"Hermione, I was not about to fly straight into a dragon's jaws. It was safer for you to shoot at it behind us rather than in front of us. We'd be barbecued by now if I had followed your advice. Gryffindors. They always want to run right into the problem. In this case, it would have been disastrous. "

"Well, this Gryffindor saved your tail feathers," Hermione hissed.

"I don't have tail feathers," Snape retorted.

"Your hindquarters then. I don't see what you're so upset about. We got away, didn't we?"

"Barely. But it showed me one thing. It's very likely I'll beat your Charms NEWTS. You get flustered under fire and your reaction time is abysmal."

Hermione turned quite red as everyone around them made an "ooh" noise. Hermione whirled on them.

"Do you mind?" she snarled. "We're having a private conversation here."

She whirled back on Snape.

"I'll have you know I've cast plenty of defensive spells during the days leading up to the final battle. As you can see I'm still here," she declared. "I can perform under fire just fine."

"We were almost in the fire," Snape responded. "You might have been quick on the draw then, but it's obvious you've become rusty."

"Rusty?"

"Yes, rusty."

Hermione fumed.

"Remember when I told you that friends sometimes hex each other?" Hermione said in a low voice.

Snape immediately went on point, his eyes narrowing and he pulled out his wand.

"Yes, I do," he intoned, his eyes hard.

"Well, they also practice hexes on each other, to hone their skills. Are you up for it?"

Snape relaxed a bit. She wasn't going to attack him. He put his wand away.

"So, you want to 'practice,' do you? Fine. We'll work it into our study time next week," he said evenly. He knew Hermione probably just wanted to knock him on his bum a few times because he'd called her on her hexing skills. Fine. It had been a while since he'd hexed a Gryffindor. If she wanted to have at him, he'd oblige her. That fact that Hermione was a witch didn't faze him at all, because magical ability was an equalizer. A witch could hex as well as a wizard.

"Fine," she shot back at him.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Snape said, "I'm going to my quarters and have a Firewhiskey. Tell Potter and the Weasleys I'll see them next weekend. I've had enough flying for one day."

With that, the wizard spun on his heel and headed for the castle, Hermione and the other students watching him go. The group turned to face Hermione.

"Are you really going to duel Snape, Hermione?" a witch asked her.

"We're not going to duel—we're going to practice Charms. Now, if you'll all excuse me," she said, walking through them and heading for the Quidditch pitch.

"Sounds like dueling to me," a wizard said, watching Hermione stalk away.

* * *

"You were chased by a dragon? What kind?" Harry asked Hermione as he, Ron and Ginny gathered around her with wide eyes.

"I don't know. I didn't really study it for details, considering it was trying to eat us."

"So much for documenting everything," Ron said with a smirk.

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped at him. "But Severus went into a dive and I hit it with the Conjunctivitis Curse. It crashed into the ground and was killed."

"So, where's Severus?" Harry asked.

"He had a hissy fit and slithered back to the dungeons," Hermione said angrily. Both of Ron's eyebrows rose. Was there trouble in Study Heaven?

"A hissy fit? Hard to imagine him doing that," Harry said.

"Well, he did. He was angry because I didn't immediately hex the dragon. I—I kind of started hitting him when he went into the dive, trying to make him turn off," Hermione admitted. "I didn't know what he was doing. I thought he was going to get us killed. He says I nearly got us killed. That my reactions are too slow. Well, he'll find out how slow I am—"

"What? What do you mean, Hermione? You aren't going to duel him are you?" Ginny asked her.

"No, of course not. We're just going to practice a bit. Hone our defensive and offensive skills for the Charms NEWTS," she said.

"Duel," Ron, Ginny and Harry said together.

"It is not!" Hermione said.

"Well, if it isn't, maybe we can join in," Ron said with narrowed eyes. "It's been a while and I know I could use a good workout—or target practice."

Hermione looked a bit stricken.

"Join in?" she repeated.

Now Harry looked excited.

"Yeah. I'd like to see what Snape could do at our age. It would be good practice and the more people involved, the better the training up, don't you think, Hermione? There'd be more variation."

"I want to duel," Ginny piped in.

"It's not dueling!" Hermione exclaimed. "But, I don't know. Severus is very private about his studies."

She really didn't want them to join in. She wanted it to be just her and Severus.

"Just ask him, Hermione," Ron said, scowling.

"No. I know he wouldn't be interested."

"I'll ask him," Harry said, "and right now."

Harry turned, grabbed his broom and started walking determinedly toward the castle.

"No! Harry! Wait!" Hermione called after him.

"I'll let you know what he says," Harry called back before he hopped on his Firebolt and zoomed away.

"Oh—damn," Hermione cursed under her breath.

She hoped Severus said no.

* * *

Harry knocked on the Potions office door. After a moment, it opened and Snape looked out at him, surprised.

"Potter," he said in greeting.

"Hi," Harry replied. He decided to just jump right in.

"I heard that you and Hermione are going to be practicing Charms and hexes, and wanted to know if me, Ron and Ginny could join in. We all need to work on our spell work, and it's been a little while since the final battle—and---"

"I have no problem with you or the Weasleys joining us. The more—the merrier," Snape purred at him. "We can meet in the Room of Requirement—say—Tuesday evening after supper?"

Harry gave him a broad smile.

"Thanks, Severus. This is going to be great," he gushed.

"I'm sure it is, Potter. Great fun indeed. Now, good day."

Snape closed the office door and an elated Harry hurried up the dungeon corridor to give Hermione, Ron and Ginny the good news.

Too bad it would only be good news to Ron and Ginny.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	33. Arrangements and Revelations

**Chapter 32 ~ Arrangements and Revelations**

Professor Slughorn was relaxing in his quarters with a glass of wine when a knock sounded on his door. The wizard took another sip of wine, set the glass down, rocked a bit to get his rotund form out of the plush armchair and answered the door. His walrus-like mustache blew up in pleasant surprise as he took in who was standing at his door.

"Severus! Welcome, welcome! Do come in my boy," he gushed, holding the door wide.

Snape entered, his black eyes shifting about the lush quarters. Slughorn believed in having the very best.

"Sit down, Severus. I was just thinking about you," the professor said with a broad smile.

Snape sank into a very plush armchair and had to adjust himself to a comfortable position.

"I wanted to speak to you, professor, about borrowing several items from your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I am doing a bit of reviewing for my NEWTS. It would be very helpful," Snape said.

"Well, you aren't exactly a student, Severus," Slughorn said, seeing an opportunity to barter. "So I'll have to think very hard about loaning you anything from the DADA class. Perhaps a bit of Quid pro Quo would be in order."

Snape frowned.

"What would you want?" he asked the teacher, well aware that no matter how jovial Slughorn seemed, he was still a Slytherin.

"Oh, nothing too involved. I'd like you to attend one of my get-togethers. Mingle and meet or be re-introduced to a few people. That's all."

"You want me to attend a party?" Snape asked.

"A very exclusive party. It would be well worth your while, Severus. Making contacts is important, especially for a wizard of your talents."

Snape considered this. He could always just show up, stand around a few minutes and leave.

"Of course, you would have to stay for the duration," Slughorn added as if he'd read the wizard's mind. He remembered Snape wasn't a very social youth.

"Well, my attendance would depend on whether you can provide what I need, and I need five," Snape bartered.

"Five what?" Slughorn asked.

Snape told him.

Slughorn went a little ashen.

"What? Why in the world would you need that many? One is terrible enough?"

"I am 'reviewing' Charms and hexes with four other students, and thought that these 'extras' would be a good addition to the mix. It would make things interesting as well as test our mettle."

Slughorn was interested.

"Who are you reviewing with?"

"Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Ginny Weasley," he replied.

Slughorn's eyes lit up.

"All very talented individuals, Severus, and experienced. Excellent duelists."

"Yes, I know that. Which is why I wanted to add something to the session that would present a bit of a challenge," Snape explained. "I have an entire scenario planned. Something that will help take their focus off of me. I know they mean to test me, and although I am sure I can hold my own, four against one aren't my favorite odds. I'm used to the ratio, but still—"

"Ah, yes. The Marauders. Still fresh in your mind, I imagine. That Potter boy was exceptional, too—"

"An exceptional arse," Snape snapped, not wanting to hear anything complimentary about James Potter. "So, will you provide me with what I need?"

Slughorn nodded.

"That I will, Severus. That I will."

* * *

On the way back to this office, Snape was stopped by Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, professor," the blond wizard said, blocking his path.

It was easy to tell this was Lucius Malfoy's son. He was almost his spitting image. Snape frowned at him.

"I'm no longer a professor here. You can call me Snape—er—'

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," Draco offered. "You—you helped me when you were—before this happened to you."

"Yes, I know. I killed Dumbledore for you," Snape said, his eyes hard. "Apparently, your mouth got you into something your wand couldn't handle."

Draco swallowed.

"It was more complicated than that," the pureblood said a bit defensively. "You were bound to kill Dumbledore—"

"And to protect you, although I have no idea why I would take an Unbreakable Vow for you. Since it was Unbreakable, I imagine I was still under the onus even after I stood in for you. I would have been bound to watch over you until the day I died if not for this accident," Snape observed.

Draco didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say and to be honest never thought about Snape still being under that vow when he returned to teaching. But, it sounded correct. Since Snape was now eighteen both physically and mentally, the vow was most likely nullified.

"Well, is there a reason you are blocking my path, Malfoy?" Snape inquired, his eyes a bit cold as he looked at Draco's perfect features. He had always despised overly handsome wizards.

"Um—yes. I heard you were going to be reviewing hexes and charms with Potter and his friends. I was hoping that you'd have room for one or two more. A Slytherin with four Gryffindors doesn't seem very balanced, and I could use the practice."

"It won't be teams, Malfoy. House affiliation won't matter," Snape informed him.

"Oh, you think so? I can't believe you're that naïve, pro—Snape," Draco drawled, feeling more comfortable now that they were on another subject. "You can't think for a minute they won't all be testing you, trying to find out just how good you are. A couple of fellow Slytherins would balance out the odds a little. Or are you partial to four against one?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco, who was obviously referring to the Marauders.

"I've never been partial to those odds, Draco. All right, you and another friend may join us. Tuesday night after supper at the Room of Requirement," Snape told him.

Draco gave him a rather dark, pleased smile.

"We'll be there," he said with a nod, then turned and walked up the corridor quickly.

"Oh, and Malfoy, be sure to let others know that the session is hereby closed and not to approach me about it," Snape called after him.

"Done," Draco called back.

He was grinning as he gave the password to enter Slytherin house. Draco hadn't made a great showing at the final battle, and Ron had punched him in the mouth twice. Although he grudgingly gave the trio their due concerning their role in the destruction of the Dark Lord, he still felt the need to redeem himself and maybe bring them down to earth a bit. This might be charms review, but he planned to get a little of his own back.

* * *

Snape's Sunday night study session with Hermione was a very quiet one. She was angry and sullen and Snape made no attempt to draw her out of it. He didn't even ask her what was wrong. He believed she was still upset about him telling her that she was rusty with her hexes.

It wasn't that at all. It was that he had agreed to let Ron, Harry and Ginny infringe on their private study time. Well, that's how she would have worded it. The truth was having the three friends join in wouldn't affect their studies at all but make the time better spent.

Hermione would never admit out loud that she wanted to keep her "special" relationship with Snape, special meaning she was the only one he worked with in academically. Besides, the addition of three more people made it unlikely there would be "personal" moments like they shared last night. Right now, she was so angry, she'd rather kiss a bugbear on the lips rather than Severus bloody Snape.

What kind of thick git was he anyway? He had to be able to tell she was angry, but he made NO attempt to talk to her or coax her out of her mood. Didn't he care?

Snape sat beside Hermione as he did some reading, watching what she was working on. She didn't even announce when she started Arithmancy. If he hadn't been watching, he would have missed it. Plus, she seemed to be going through the equations at top speed—but he kept up, arching an eyebrow at her.

At twelve-thirty, Hermione finished her studies. She had caught up and was two weeks ahead in assignments again. She pointedly closed her book, stood up and began putting away her things, Snape watching her in amusement as she viciously abused the books, slamming them into the cubbyholes.

Finally she slung her knapsack on her back and stormed over to the wall, Snape hurrying past her to open the door, a slight smile on his face that pissed her off even more. She stuck her nose in the air and stalked through, Snape opening the office door solicitously, giving her a courtly little bow as she passed.

She spun when she entered the dungeon corridor. Snape was standing in the doorway, just looking at her.

"You're—you're the biggest git I've ever met!" she seethed.

"Am I? Being that you're in a house full of gitty Gryffindors, that's quite an accomplishment. Do I get some kind of prize?"

"Ooh!" Hermione hissed at him. He smiled at her.

"Good night, Hermione. See you tomorrow evening," he said softly, then closed the door.

"He's just—selfish and insufferable. I don't know why I wanted to kiss him," she muttered as she headed for the entrance hall.

"I can't wait until Tuesday. I'm going to set his robes on fire—again."

* * *

Harry looked over at Ron, who lay in bed on his back, his arms folded behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. Harry was once again reading a Quidditch magazine, but Ron's silence attracted his attention. He decided to have a bit of fun.

"No ohmmming tonight, Ron?" he asked with a smile.

"No. I won't be doing that anymore," Ron replied shortly.

"It's good to see you've come to your senses. It was stupid to believe you could become an Animagus in a week, Ron. I can't believe you even fell for that," Harry said, putting his magazine on his nightstand and taking off his glasses.

Ron scowled at him.

"Why couldn't I, Harry? I might have been able to do it with the proper intent and desire," Ron retorted, a bit of anger in his voice as Harry put his glasses on top of the magazine.

"Because everyone knows that you have to have an innate ability to be an Animagus, and that it takes years to develop the control and connection to turn into an animal, Ron. That's why. If it was just a case of desire, then everyone would have an animal form. That's basic knowledge. I hate to say it, but what you were doing was a waste of time and money. It was just—dumb."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Ron asked him, sitting up on the edge of the bed now.

Harry frowned at his blurred figure.

"Ron, don't start chanting again in an attempt to prove me wrong. That book doesn't work and we both know it."

"I don't know if it works or not," Ron said sullenly.

"It doesn't. I don't think you'll ever be an Animagus. You're too impatient and it takes a long time. I think you should accept that Snape can do something you can't and focus on other things," Harry said, turning on his side and snuggling into his pillow. He closed his eyes.

That was it. Harry invoking Snape's name was the bone that broke the Thestral's back.

Ron stood up and transformed into orangutan. He gave a little screech-whoop. Harry frowned.

"Cut it out, Ron. Making animal noises won't help," Harry murmured against the pillow.

Ron ape-walked over to the side of Harry's bed and poked him in the side of the head with one long, hairy finger.

"Ow! Cut it out, Ron," Harry hissed, sitting up. He looked at Ron's furry form then grabbed his glasses, sliding away from him as he fumbled putting them on.

"Ron?" he said with his eyes round. His mouth dropped open as he looked at his friend.

Ron backed up, stood to his full height and pounded his chest with his fists, the long arms flexing. Harry's eyes slowly drifted down his body then back up again.

"I—I can't believe it. You're—you're a monkey!"

Ron gave him a very wet sounding raspberry. He wasn't a monkey. He was an ape.

Harry's eyes drifted down Ron's animal form again, stopping.

"I'll tell you one thing, Ron, you might want to consider wearing shorts or something. Your nads are enormous," Harry observed. "And really hairy."

Ron looked down, blinked, then gave a huge ape smile, which was pretty horrible because orangutan teeth aren't the loveliest set of choppers in the world. Then he began to rock back and forth, making his bigger-than-life sized nobblies swing side to side. Harry shook his head at the display.

If Ron ran around like this, it was going to be a fiasco.

But damn, he had a really cool form, giant nads or not.

* * *

A/N: lol. Thanks for reading.


	34. Ron Revealed

**Chapter 33 ~ Ron Revealed**

"So, how did you do it, Ron? How'd you manage to find your form so quickly?" Harry asked him in amazement. "I don't know anyone who's ever managed to become an Animagus within days of trying. What's the secret?"

Ron sat down on the bed and started to tell Harry what happened, then thought better of it.

"Well, Harry, to be honest, I'd rather not say, at least, not until after the NEWTS. It's my extra credit. I've already pre-certified it," he told the boy who lived.

Harry frowned at him.

"You're not going to tell me? I'm your best mate," Harry said blackly.

Ron scowled right back at him.

"Yeah, the best mate who practically told me I was an idiot for believing I could do it," Ron shot back at him. "By the way, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Well, Ron, you have to admit that history was on my side. Even the textbooks say—"

"Looks like I proved the textbooks wrong, didn't I?"

Harry looked over at the book Ron had purchased. Could it have really helped him transform? It seems far-fetched, but Ron was definitely an Animagus now.

"Ron, would you mind if I took a look at your book?"

Later, Ron was the one with the pillow over his face trying to sleep as Harry stood in the center of the room rocking slowly and chanting: "Ohmmm. Ohmmm."

* * *

"Ron, I'm begging you, tell me what you did," Harry said to Ron, who stubbornly shook his head. Ginny, who was walking beside them, looked at Harry curiously. They were on their way to breakfast and Harry looked as if he hadn't slept all night.

"What do you want him to tell you, Harry?" she asked her boyfriend.

"Ron's an Animagus, Ginny. He's an—"

"No, don't tell her my form," Ron interjected, frowning at Harry. "I'll reveal it when I'm ready. I only showed you because you were being such a prat."

Ginny's brown eyes went wide.

"You're an Animagus, Ron? How did you manage to become one so quickly?" she asked him. "Did the book work?"

Ron looked rather lofty.

"I'm not sharing my mystical secrets yet. Not until after the NEWTS," he told his sister.

"Well, at least tell me what your form is. Is it a bird?"

"No."

"A dog?"

"No."

"A squirrel?"

"No, Ginny. I'm not going to tell you, so stop asking me," Ron said as they rode the shifting stairwell.

"I bet it's a red-headed prat," Ginny said angrily.

Harry laughed.

"You just have to wait like everyone else, Ginny. I'm going to have a coming out like Snape did," Ron said. "I'm going to let everyone know I have an Animagus form and if they want to see it, they are to meet me outside the castle right after the last class today. So, you can pass the word around. Better yet, tell Neville. The whole school will know by the end of breakfast."

"Ron, Snape didn't actually have a 'coming out.' People found out he was going to go flying with Hermione and just came to see. He didn't announce it or anything," Harry told him.

Ron shrugged.

"A little push won't hurt anything. Only people who are interested will come to see," Ron said, defending his idea. "I hope Hermione gets wind of it."

Hermione did get wind of it in her Arithmancy class.

"Are you talking about Ronald Weasley? He's no Animagus," she said to the other students gabbing about it.

"Well, according to Neville Longbottom he is. He's going to show his form just before supper out in front of the castle," an excited witch informed her.

Hermione scowled as everyone chattered excitedly about what Ron's form could be. It must be cool, otherwise he wouldn't be willing to show it to everyone.

No, it must be some kind of trick, or illusion. Harry had told her Ron had just started trying to find his form a couple of days ago. There's no way he could have done it—could he?

Hermione could hardly focus on her work for the rest of the period, thinking about Ron's claim. If he did manage to do it, he was going to tell her exactly how he managed it. She'd be there to see it for herself.

****************************************

While Hermione was in Snape's quarters for her lunch study, she told him that Ron was an Animagus. She only broke her silence because it didn't seem to be working and she wanted to know what Snape thought about that.

"Good for Weasley," he said shortly, trying to feed the irritating Hell's Guardian plant again. This time the rat was good and bloody. Still he was having a time of it.

"But, he's only been practicing a few days," Hermione said. "It takes years to develop the power to transform."

Snape shrugged.

"Maybe he knows something the rest of us don't, " Snape said unconcernedly.

This statement almost made smoke blow out of Hermione's ears. The idea that Ron could possibly know something she didn't irritated the hell out of her.

"Well, he's going to show everyone his form after the last class today, just before supper, in front of the castle. I'm going to be there, and I'm going to make sure he's not using any illusory magic."

Snape looked at her, standing well back from the sneaky plant.

"I thought Weasley was your friend. In fact, he was more than your friend for quite a while. Don't you trust him?" Snape asked her quietly.

"Yes, I trust him," Hermione replied uncertainly. "It's just that I find it hard to believe that he—"

"That you may have underestimated his magical abilities?" Snape finished for her. "Or that he discovered something on his own, something you haven't or couldn't?"

Hermione didn't say anything.

Snape shook his head.

"You can't be the best at everything, Hermione. Someone is always going to be better than you in something. And you don't get to choose who it is. If you want my advice, be happy for Weasley. Becoming an Animagus is no small feat, no matter how few days it took him."

Hermione seemed taken aback by Snape's chastisement. Still, it rankled her. How did Ron do it?

"I'm just having a hard time—"

"Green doesn't become you. That's one of my house colors, not yours."

Hermione frowned at him.

"Green?"

"Better known as the green-eyed monster of envy or jealousy."

Hermione could hardly speak for a moment.

"How dare you? I'm not jealous of Ron!"

"So, why are you so upset about this?"

"Because I know Ron. He's probably jealous of you being an Animagus and—"

"And what, Hermione? Purposely made himself one too? What if he did? That would show very powerful magical ability and set a staggering precedent. A wizard can't have too much magical ability.'

Hermione realized that Snape wasn't going to pretend to understand how she felt. Or maybe he did understand and thought it selfish and stupid. It might be—but she couldn't help it. This was Ron. He was no Muggle Einstein. Still, he was her friend and she didn't want Severus to think she didn't care about her friends.

"I'll go—support him, then," she said.

"Yes, I imagine you will while looking for illusory magic," Snape responded, finally getting the plant to swallow down the bloody rat.

Hermione gathered her books together.

"I'm going to go. Are you coming to see Ron's transformation?" she asked him.

"I might," Snape said, examining the brownness around the Hell's Guardian's leaves. It needed more moisture and maybe a few sprays of his potion.

"All right. I'll see you later," Hermione said softly.

This time Snape let her let herself out. One thing was clear.

Hermione Granger had a lot more issues than were easily discernible. Jealousy was certainly one of them.

Fortunately, Snape understood that particular emotion too.

* * *

At a quarter to five, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley stood outside the castle, watching as excited students streamed out of the school and gathered around them, Ron wearing a big smile despite having a quiet argument behind a Muffliato spell so Ginny wouldn't hear them. She stood angrily with her arms folded. She couldn't make Harry tell her Ron's form when they were alone.

"I promised," Harry said lamely. Ginny had stormed off, but didn't stay angry. He was just doing what he told Ron he would, and really, that's one of the things she loved about him. His loyalty.

"I'm telling you, Ron, you need shorts or a thong or something. It's obscene."

"Harry, it's an animal. Only humans have hang-ups like that. I'm going to swing free as the wind blows. As free as the grass grows. Swing free and follow my heart."

Harry groaned at the mutilated "Born Free" lyrics.

"Ron, you are human," he shot back.

"Not when I change. It won't be a problem, believe me."

"All right, Ron. It's your peek show."

Ron removed the spell just as Hermione stalked up to them.

"Here comes trouble," Ron muttered to Harry as Hermione walked up to him narrow-eyed.

"What's this about you being an Animagus, Ron? What's your form?" Hermione demanded.

"Patience, patience, Hermione. All will be revealed," Ron said loftily.

"I'll say," Harry piped in, rolling his eyes.

Ron scowled at him, then cleared his throat.

"Give me a little room, Hermione," he said to the witch.

Hermione backed up, her face twisted.

Snape walked out of the castle and stood on the steps where he could see clearly without being in the middle of the crowd. All of Gryffindor and most of Slytherin were present, as well as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Draco Malfoy was out in front with Goyle, Blaise and Pansy Parkinson standing with him.

"He's probably a tit-mouse," Pansy said witheringly.

"No, it has to be better than that or he wouldn't have announced it like this, Draco responded as Ron stepped forward, grandly addressing the crowd.

"Welcome everyone, to the unveiling of my Animagus form."

Harry snorted behind him, but Ron ignored it.

"Now, it may startle a few of you, but I assure you, it is absolutely safe. I retain my human consciousness when transformed, but ladies, you might want to grab the arm of the closest wizard for strength."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Snape smirked. Weasley had a pair, that was for certain.

"Drumroll, please," he said, and Harry flicked his wand so the sound of a rolling drumbeat filled the air. On the cymbal clash, Ron transformed, stretching his long hairy arms over his head and letting out a whoop.

There was silence for a moment, then several witches screamed, one fainting dead away.

"Oh good gods!" Hermione hissed, shading her eyes as Ron's orangutan form stood in all its hairy, nad-heavy glory for the world to see.

Snape started laughing, as did most of the wizards as Ron pounded his chest, then pretended to rush the crowd, nads swinging. The witches nearly fell over themselves trying to get out of the way, the crowd parting as Ron ran up the stairs and stopped in front of Snape, who was still laughing.

"I thought you had a pair, Weasley, but now—now I'm certain of it," the wizard said.

Ron gave him a horrendous smile, then leaped up and grabbed one of the flagpoles that hung the Hogwarts' standard and swung around it expertly, gripping it with hands at first, then feet, then flinging himself through the air to the next one. An Olympic champion had nothing on him as he swung about, leaping back and forth whooping, hanging upside down, standing up on the thin iron pole and generally doing the ape thing..

Most of the witches ran back inside the castle, red and horrified as the wizards cheered and laughed at his antics. They, like Ron, thought it was cool. Hermione couldn't believe it. He really was an Animagus. And his goods weren't that big in human form.

Lavender stood watching him too, completely smitten by the big hairy red orangutan.

"Yay, Ron!" she screamed.

Ginny was just shaking her head. This was Ron all right. He had to love this, especially flashing every witch in Hogwarts. He'd streaked once or twice, so had a bit of the exhibitionist in him.

Finally, Ron dropped to the ground and changed back. He was surrounded by wizards of all houses, a big smile plastered on his face.

He was a smash. At least to the wizards. Almost all the witches all thought he was a big pervert.

Hermione pushed through the wizards.

"How did you do it, Ron? How did you become an Animagus so quickly?" she asked him.

Everyone fell silent, waiting for him to answer.

"You'll find out after the NEWTS. I'm using that information, and documenting my own transformation, as well as how it came about," he told her soberly.

Hermione stared at him.

"What?" she said.

"You aren't the only one who wants to do well, Hermione. I've latched on to something here, and I'm going to use it. I've already pre-certified the topic, so it's in the works. Until then, I'm not telling anyone anything."

This statement was met by "aws" from the wizards around him.

"Surely you're going to need some help editing it," Hermione said to him.

"Yeah, I probably will, but I'll find someone other than you to do it. I wouldn't want to cut into your 'study' time," Ron said a bit smugly, then looked around the crowd. "All that swinging around made me hungry. Let's go eat!"

Cheers rose again as everyone followed Ron into the castle. Hermione stood there red-faced, watching them go. Snape stood on the steps as well, looking at her.

"That's quite the form, isn't it?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded numbly.

"And Weasley has enough sense to utilize what he knows to up his marks. Good show on his part," the wizard said. "I know you're happy for him."

Then Snape turned and walked back inside the castle, heading for the dungeons.

Hermione stood there a moment longer, then followed, her brows furrowed.

Ron's form wasn't a gryffin, but it was still impressive and agile. It was also overexposed.. What grated on her nerves the most was that he wasn't going to share what he'd discovered, but use it for himself. It didn't register to Hermione that this was the same mode of operation she was using for her NEWTS. She was thinking about all the times she'd discovered something when they were searching for the Horcruxes and shared that information.

But that had been a life and death situation. Information had to be shared.

This wasn't a search for the Dark Lord's fragments. These were the NEWTS, and that made it a completely different Quidditch game.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	35. Thoughtless Words

**Chapter 34 ~ Thoughtless Words**

"That was a simply awful display," Hermione said to Snape, who was sitting at his writing desk with his supper in front of him. It smelled delicious, but Hermione was too busy complaining about Ron to pay any attention.

"He should have worn shorts, or at least a thong," she sniffed, getting out her books and slamming them on the desk in a temper.

Snape cut into his Yorkshire pudding. It was filled with beef stew. He also had horseradish sauce, gravy, roast potatoes and vegetables to round out the meal. A glass of cold pumpkin juice waited for consumption. He didn't say anything to Hermione in response, yet.

"Honestly, did he have to swing around so much? He nearly made the entire female population of Hogwarts pass out from shock and disgust. And you wizards—encouraging him the way you all did—"

Now Snape looked up at her, having been personally drawn into the offending party as a whole.

"I was simply applauding his agility," Snape said in his defense.

Hermione scowled at him.

"You were laughing," she said accusingly. "I saw you."

"Laughing is good for the soul."

"It was terrible. Ron can't run around like that. McGonagall won't allow it," Hermione hissed.

"Well, she can't stop him unless there's a reason, Hermione."

"There is a reason. His enormous dangly bits. They shouldn't be allowed in public!"

Snape quirked a lip at her then said, "I was wondering about those. Were they always so big and—er-- hairy? I don't mean to pry, but, you have seen them up close before. I'm just curious."

Hermione turned nearly purple at Snape's question.

"No, they weren't that big and hairy! They transformed with the rest of him!" she spat.

"Oh. Well, that's reassuring to the rest of the male population," he said, returning to his supper. "But unless a wizarding world wide law is passed requiring Animagi to cover their sexual parts, then the Headmistress can't legally single Weasley out. You should know that. Besides, they're just animal parts."

"They resemble human male sexual organs closely enough to be disturbing," Hermione said with distaste.

"Disturbing? As a human male, I take offense at that statement. I don't go around saying human female sexual organs are disturbing. In fact, they are far from it—as far as I hear. Not that I know. I haven't really looked at a set yet."

Hermione reddened as Snape put a potato in his mouth and chewed, looking at her thoughtfully. Then he swallowed and said, "Perhaps, for the sake of knowledge, we should compare our sexual organs and see which are least attractive."

"Perhaps, we shouldn't!" Hermione hissed, quickly sitting down and opening her books.

The nerve of him. All wizards were pigs.

Snape continued eating his supper in peace, having ended the conversation about Ron's enormous nads quite effectively. Hopefully permanently.

* * *

The next day at lunch, Harry, Ginny and even Ron were excited about the upcoming Charms and hex review with Snape. It was almost as if Hermione didn't register at all.

"Now we'll get a chance to see him in action," Harry said with a smile. "I always wondered how powerful he was when facing my father and the rest."

"If he's that good, you'd better hope he doesn't have a flashback," Ron said warningly.  
"You do look like your dad, Harry."

Suddenly Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini appeared behind the boy who lived, both sets of eyes glittering.

"I'm looking forward to reviewing with you, Potter—Weasleys," Draco drawled.

Shocked, all three looked up at him.

"What are you talking about, Draco?" Ginny demanded.

"Oh, you didn't know? Blaise and I will be joining in this evening. Balancing the odds, really. Snape might be used to four Gryffindors against one Slytherin, but that doesn't mean he likes it. So, you'll be facing more than Snape."

Blaise didn't speak, but his brown eyes swept over the three of them measuringly, and he wore a small, unpleasant smile.

"We weren't going to face Snape. It's every wizard or witch for him or herself," Harry countered.

Draco snorted.

"You really believe that? You'll all be firing at Snape, whether you 'intend' to or not. He's the odd man out, after all. But, while you're firing at him, we'll be firing at you. See you in the Room of Requirement."

Draco and Blaise walked away.

"There's going to have to be some rules," Ginny said in a low voice. "Plain rules that everyone can understand. Draco and Blaise could throw hexes we wouldn't use."

"Speak for yourself, Ginny. I'd Crucio Draco until the Thestrals came home," Ron muttered. "It's not like anyone would know if we use Unforgivables, as long as we don't use the Killing Curse. That should be the only hex off limits."

"Ron, a lot of damage could be done that way," Harry said uncomfortably.

There were some very nasty curses that could be thrown around.

"Since Snape set this up, let's just see what rules he imposes. If we don't agree, we can either discuss it or refuse to participate," Ginny said reasonably.

Ron scowled.

"I'm not walking away like a coward. I've been through a war. An evening in the ROR will be nothing compared to that. Tame, in fact. It's just a room. It'll be easy to battle—er—review. And if we work together, we can handle all three of them. Hermione's fast, you're both fast, and I'm fast."

"Blaise's pretty fast too, Ron," Harry said. "And he has an Outstanding in both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"We all have Outstandings in Charms," Ron countered. "That doesn't mean anything. A good charm can block Dark Magic, too."

Harry looked uncertain. What seemed to be an evening of fun had just become very serious and drawn along house lines. Snape might not be an active Slytherin, but he still was one. He probably would work with Draco and Blaise.

"We need to talk to Hermione," Harry said, pushing away his plate. "She's in Snape's quarters."

He walked down the aisle, followed by Ginny and Ron.

* * *

Hermione and Snape were working on Potions ratios when there was a knock on the office door. It was amplified so Snape could hear visitors from his room. Hermione continued working as he answered it.

He returned momentarily.

"You have visitors," he told Hermione from the entrance, then stepped aside, letting in Harry, Ginny and Ron, who looked around the sparsely furnished study.

"Not much here other than books. No wonder you love it," Ron said to Hermione, who rose, looking perplexed. Snape sat back down at the desk and studied his parchment.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked them.

Harry looked over at Snape, then said in a low voice, "We need to talk to you, Hermione. About tonight. Privately."

Hermione frowned.

"Severus invited you," she said a bit coldly, "so you should talk to him."

"We want to talk to you. It's about—Draco and Blaise. They're coming too."

"WHAT?"

Hermione spun on Snape, who was perusing his work as if it was the most important thing in the world. Hermione stormed over and snatched it out of his hand.

Ron, Harry and Ginny looked very surprised at her aggressiveness.

"You invited Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini to our review?" she asked him.

"Malfoy asked me if he could join in with a friend and I said yes. The more people involved, the better the exercise," he said, snatching his parchment back from her with a frown.

"It's bad enough you invited Harry, Ron and Ginny. Now there's going to be two more?"

Snape didn't say anything, but simply looked over at her three friends, who were staring at her.

"Hermione, you have a problem with us reviewing with you?" Harry asked her.

Hermione realized she had spoken without thinking. She turned to see Harry staring at her. Both Ron and Ginny were scowling with their arms crossed.

"Ah—no Harry. I didn't mean that, exactly," she said in a tremulous voice.

"Well, what did you mean then?" Ron said angrily. "It sounded clear enough to me."

"Me too," Ginny said with a bit of iron in her voice.

"I just meant—well, when I suggested it to Severus, I meant it to just be the two of us, as part of our studies. We do study exclusively," she said in her defense.

"Obviously not that exclusively if Snape said we could join in," Ron retorted. "So, you don't want us here?"

"You're invited now, Ron," Hermione replied, feeling absolutely awful.

Snape just listened to the interaction. They must really like each other, because he would have walked out on her immediately if she had said that in front of him.

"Well, we were coming to talk to you about how to handle Draco and Blaise, but forget it now," Harry said, frowning at her. "We'll figure it out ourselves. You just—study, ok? See you later, Severus. Sorry to disturb you."

Harry turned and walked out of the room, followed by Ron and Ginny. Ron looked back at Hermione and shook his head, then exited.

"Do you mind letting the wall down?" Snape asked her.

She looked at him, then walked through the opening, made sure the office was locked and warded, then re-entered the room, closing the wall and joining him at the table. She was very quiet.

"Looks like you ruined a perfectly good Gryffindor pow-wow," Snape observed. "I had no idea you didn't want your friends to participate. Was that why you gave me the silent treatment two days ago? I thought it was because I questioned your skill."

Hermione let out a sigh.

"When I issued you that challenge, I wanted to go one on one with you, Severus, and show you how good I am. But—now that they're involved—it won't be just us," she said softly. "I know it's incredibly selfish, but that's how I feel, and I feel awful about it."

Snape just stared at her for a moment, then his eyes fell on her lips.

"One on one with me?" he purred at her.

Hermione flushed.

"Practicing charms and hexes, yes," she answered.

"That blush suggests something other than charms and hexes," he said softly. "Are you really that jealous of the time you spend with me? So jealous that you don't want to share me with your friends? You've walked into the jaws of death with them, Hermione."

She hung her head.

"I never knew I was this—this selfish and shallow, Severus. I don't understand it."

"I think I do," the wizard replied. "You have someone on the same page with you for the first time. We're alike, more alike than you and your friends, despite how much you care for them. You're the first person I've been completely in line with, too."

Lily had been his friend, but they clashed much of the time, Snape usually having to grovel to get back in her good graces. They studied together for the OWLS, but he was always more focused than she was. She took a lot of breaks and complained about working too hard.

"What are you trying to prove, Severus?" she'd ask him. "That you're the smartest wizard at Hogwarts?"

Yes, Snape knew what Hermione was going through. He truly did, even though he hadn't been as bad as she was about his studies. He was studying the normal amount of NEWTS material, and since Lily dumped him nearly two years before, he didn't have friends to miss him.

Hermione didn't say anything but felt completely miserable. How could she have said something like that right in front of them?

"You'll make up," Snape said. "I'm sure you've said thoughtless things before."

"I don't know," Hermione said, "they must feel terrible."

Snape smirked as he picked up his Arithmancy work.

"I think they're going to feel much better this evening after they've hexed you out of your robes," he responded. "You told me friends sometimes hex each other when angry. I hope you're as fast as you say you are."

Hermione scowled.

"They wouldn't—" she began, then stopped.

Maybe Harry wouldn't be vindictive, but Ginny and Ron were another story altogether. They were rather hot-headed when angry, and both of them seemed pissed off, while Harry had seemed more hurt than angry.

Maybe this evening was going to be more of a challenge than she'd thought.

It would be her fault it if was. Bat bogeys were sure to fly.

* * *

That evening, Harry, Ron and Ginny waited outside the Room of Requirement, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione's outburst had been quite hurtful. Harry had suggested they not show up, but both Ron and Ginny shot that idea down. They were ready to "review" with Hermione.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini walked up to the trio.

"Ready to get your robes smoked, Weasley?" Draco said to Ron, as Blaise once again sized them up, his dark eyes resting on Ginny a bit longer than necessary. Long enough for Harry to move closer to her protectively. Blaise was a bit of a witch-magnet. He didn't talk much, but by his track record of former girlfriends, obviously he didn't need to do much talking.

"It's your robes that are going to be smoking, Malfoy," Ron shot back at him as Hermione walked up. She reddened a little.

"Where's Severus?" she asked.

"Isn't he with you?" Harry responded, his eyes a bit hard behind his glasses.

"You don't see him, do you?"

Both Ron and Ginny scowled at her, while Draco looked delighted. Seems there was a bit of a rip in the friendship fabric. Better for him.

Suddenly the door to the ROR opened and Snape stepped out, closing it behind him.

"Hey, we didn't know you were in there," Ron said to him, frowning.

"I was setting up the room for our engagement. Now, this is a review testing our skills and abilities. No permanently crippling spells are to be used. Painful spells are fine. If an Unforgivable is used, we'll just—pretend it wasn't. I'm sure you all know not to use the Killing Curse for obvious reasons. Death is an expellable offense even if we are preparing for the NEWTS."

He looked at Hermione pointedly, though he didn't need to do that. She'd do what she had to do to prepare for the most important wizarding tests she'd ever take, but would stop short of killing someone.

"Now, are you all ready to enter?"

Everyone nodded.

"Follow me," Snape said, opening the door and entering the ROR, trailed by the other participants, who all looked around the room with rounded eyes.

"Bloody hell," Ron said in a near whisper.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	36. Reviewing Part 1

**Chapter 35 ~ Reviewing (Part 1)**

A dark forest stood before them, speckled with moonlit areas and shadows. There was just enough light to see motion, but a lot places to hide as well as fight openly. A low-lying mist added to the eerie effect.

"What is this? The Forbidden Forest?" Ginny asked in a low voice.

"Not exactly," Snape replied, "but I discovered something interesting about the ROR as I was musing aloud about what I wished I could add. It—listened to me."

Hermione nodded.

"I could have told you that. Neville discovered that secret a while ago. The ROR opened up on a shop where he could get food," she said.

Draco looked at the forest. It was very big.

"How large is it?" he asked Snape, who shrugged.

"As large as we need, I imagine. Large enough to spread out. And look—"

He pointed to the wall behind them. On it were seven large glass tubes. Above the tubes was each of their names.

"That will keep track of how well you're doing. Jewels will drop down almost like they do when your house is awarded points, but in this case, each individual will be awarded jewels for casting effective charms and hexes. When one of them is completely filled, then the review will be over. I'm not sure exactly how the scoring goes, but I think the more effective the spell, the more jewels are received. You can only use a spell once and physical contact will subtract jewels, so brawling will cost you. Only magical ability counts."

"Yeah, no punching, Weasley," Draco said to Ron, who scowled at him.

"The review will begin three minutes after we take up our positions. No charms or hexes are to be fired before then or else the offender will be out of the competition. They can fight, but won't gain any jewels because they cheated. A red flare will let you know when you can start hunting for opponents. You can work in teams but eventually will have to face off to get a good amount of jewels for yourself. Personally, to me, everyone is fair game."

The participants all looked at each other measuringly. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to work together. But no one said anything about their plans or if their method of attack had changed.

Ron looked up at the trees with interest. They might come in handy.

"Any questions?" Snape asked.

No. No one asked anything. It was clear what had to be done.

"All right then, we enter the forest. Spread out and give yourselves space at first. If you choose to work in teams you have to find each other first. Good hunting."

Snape walked into the forest, sticking to the shadowy areas and disappeared quickly.

Hermione took a deep breath, walked a bit further up and entered as well, her wand drawn and a determined look in her eyes.

One by one everyone entered the forest, trying to find good starting places. Ron ran to put some distance between himself and the others, then looked up, transformed and swung into a tree. Once situated, he transformed back to human form and peered through the limbs. He had hoped this would give him a vantage point the others wouldn't have, but the limbs of the other trees got in the way. Still, he could use his animal form to move through the branches rather than on the ground, then transform back to human form when he wanted to hex someone.

They'd never see him coming.

Blaise searched about until he found a tree that was perfectly shadowed but still had adequate light around it. He stepped into the shadow, his back against the tree, his brown eyes quick and watchful.

Ginny had doubled back when she was sure everyone else was deep in the forest. She stayed on the fringe, hiding behind a tree. This way, she could be sure no one could sneak up behind her.

Draco found a clearing and positioned himself on the edge of it. There were also large boulders present, and he crouched behind one, listening for any untoward sound.

Harry walked through the forest and stopped when he saw a long box propped against a tree. It was hinged. He studied it, then tried to pull it open. He couldn't budge it and he couldn't use magic on it. He positioned himself behind it, sure that it meant something.

Hermione walked through the forest quietly, slightly crouched, thinking hard. She looked up at the trees and furrowed her brow. Ron might take advantage of them because of his animal form. People rarely looked up, but she'd be watching and ready.

The others, more than likely they were making use of the shadows and planned to ambush each other. Perhaps—she should stick to the lighted areas, keeping the trees at her back and lure them out. She had several spells she could use to help her and bet her broomstick that effective defensive spells cast on herself would count. She doubted anyone else had thought about that.

But of course she was wrong. Snape did. He stood stock still within a dark area, his black eyes scanning the light speckled forest before him, still as death. He'd had moments like this all through school, standing still as stone while the Marauders searched for him. They would always find him. He wished he had known about their increased sense of smell. It was something he had now. Finding his competitors wouldn't be difficult because he didn't need to see them.

Especially Hermione. She basically smelled like a library. The leathery scent of books permeated her skin as if she'd been immersed in them. She had in a way, all her life. Snape loved the smell of books, so it attracted him on a number of levels.

She wouldn't be able to hide. None of them would.

Suddenly, Snape froze as a scent hit him. He sniffed delicately. That was an animal scent. He smiled slowly, looking up toward the trees. There were only two wizards that could transform.

Him—and Weasley.

Ron was at a disadvantage as well. Orangutans had the same facilities as humans when it came to sight, scent and sound. He didn't have a hunter's adaptations. He was powerful and agile, but his senses were ordinary.

Now that everyone was positioned, the ROR began running down the time. To the participants, three minutes felt like three hours as they waited for the flare that would signal the start of their "review."

Suddenly the room flashed bright red. It was on!

Hermione cast a spell on herself quickly, one that sensitized her hearing so she could better hear people approaching. One step on a twig and she'd be able to tell where a potential assailant (or victim) was.

Ginny, who was on the perimeter, stared into the forest and had an idea. She backed up and pointed her wand.

"Solaris!" she cried, sending the blinding light through the trees. Hermione was facing away from the charm, so the light flashed around her, doing no damage, but Draco, Blaise and Snape were caught full on, temporarily blinded.

Ginny looked back with satisfaction as three scarlet jewels filled her tube.

"Good start," she said to herself with a wicked smile.

Ron and Harry had both been protected, Harry by the box and tree, and Ron by the limbs which scattered the light and blocked his eyes.

"Gods damn it," Snape hissed, blinking at the ground. He heard Draco shout, then let out a stream of curses. Seems he'd been hit too. Snape wondered who cast the charm. Hermione? Well, he'd stay in the shadows until he could see again. He had his other senses to warn him if anyone else approached.

"Bloody hell," Ron hissed as the light flashed around him. He heard Draco yell, transformed into his animal form and moved through the trees in the direction the cry came from. If Draco had been blinded, he'd be an easy target.

With her enhanced hearing Hermione heard the branches giving as Ron moved through the boughs. She dipped behind a tree and pointed her wand at the noise. She saw a glimpse of the orangutan as it passed through a lighted area.

"Rictusempra!" Hermione hissed, casting the charm.

The orangutan began to scream, losing its grip on the branches as its body was magically and unmercifully tickled, Hermione snickering as she watch it lose its hold and plummet from the tree to the ground, turning back into Ron upon impact.

She ran deeper into the forest as a jewel dropped into her tube, indicating a successful spell. Ginny's brown eyes narrowed when she saw it. Hermione was making her move.

Harry walked around the tree to study the box again. This was standard Harry. Instead of looking for his opponents, he was mucking around with something he probably had no business mucking around with. He still had that curiosity about him. He pointed his wand at the box.

"Alohamora," he breathed.

The box began to rattle and Harry stepped back, the blood draining from his face as the box opened and Voldemort stepped out of it, walking jerkily toward him, his crimson eyes glittering.

Harry backed up, horrified as the dead wizard continued walking forward with that jerky, stiff gait, as if animated by some other force.

"No! You're dead!" Harry gasped, his heart pounding. "Get back!"

"Harry! Harry, it's a Boggart!" Hermione yelled at him from between the trees.

Everyone heard her. There were Boggarts in here? Shit!

Harry thrust a trembling wand tip at the thing approaching him.

"Riddikulus!" he cried, blasting it.

Voldemort dissolved into a little mound of sand which a wind blew away.

Harry turned to Hermione who was looking at him soberly.

"Hermione, thanks for—"

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry was blasted back through the trees and Hermione took off again, a wicked smile on her face. She had helped him, but they were still "reviewing." She was in this to win.

A stunned Harry sat up on his elbows, blinking. That had been a dirty trick. He stood up and brushed himself off. Hermione wasn't going to get away with that. He took off running in the direction she took.

Ginny frowned as another jewel dropped into Hermione's tube. Hermione was catching up. The redhead decided standing on the perimeter wasn't the smart thing to do. She needed to get in there and cross wands with the others. She stealthily entered the forest, sticking to the shadows.

Blaise managed to get his eyesight in order, then began to creep through the forest, keeping low and listening. He heard someone running toward him and shrank back. It was Hermione. He smiled as she ran by, then fired a blast after her.

"Tarantallegra!" he cried, hitting Hermione in the back and smiling as she began to dance uncontrollably, cursing as Blaise melted back into the shadows. A green emerald fell into his tube.

"Finite Incantatum," Hermione said shakily, ending the charm just as Harry slid into view.

"There you are! Expelliarmus!" he yelled firing a blast at Hermione. She blocked it. If he hadn't shouted, he might have hit her.

Harry was about to fire another spell at her when a cry of "Petrificus Totalus!" was shouted from the right and he was hit by the spell. He turned blue and toppled over, a smiling Draco emerging from the forest and looking down at him.

"Take that, Potter," he said, then looked startled as Hermione shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" and hit him with the same spell, Draco toppling and landing right next to Harry.

Both Draco and Hermione received a jewel each in their tubes.

Ron was limping through the forest angrily. He had no idea who had hexed him out of the tree, but someone was going to pay. He saw a motion and dropped down, inching up to a tree and peering around it. Blaise was sneaking through the forest. Ron's blue eyes narrowed and he stuck his wand from around the trunk, staying out of sight.

"Confundo!" he hissed, hitting the wizard. Blaise began to stumble around, completely befuddled and confused. Two jewels dropped into Ron's tube.

"Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, eh, Zambini?" he gloated.

"Sorry, Ron," a familiar voice said.

Ron turned to see Ginny with her wand pointed at him.

"Ginny?"

"Ferula!" she cried, bandages flying out of her wand and wrapping Ron up like a mummy. Only his eyes and nose could be seen. He fell over.

"Just playing to win, Ron. See you later," his sister told him before running off into the woods.

"Gods damn it," Ron cursed in a muffled voice as he twisted and turned, slowly loosening the bandages around him.

"Need a bit of help, Weasley?" a voice purred at him. "Levicorpus!"

Ron was hoisted into the air upside down.

"Not fair," he mumbled through the bandages as a jewel dropped into Snape's tube. Snape directed him over to the closest tree and through the branches until he was well-balanced.

"Divesto!" Snape said, then "Whoops. A bit more uncovering than I intended."

"You think?" Ron hissed at him, left only in his tighty-whiteys. At least he had his wand.

"Well, I'm off," Snape said as Ron fired an Expelliarmus at him and missed.

He'd gone about a good thirty yards before he heard a hex shouted and tried to jump aside, only to fall on his face. He rolled over to see Hermione standing over him, her wand pointed between his eyes.

"Tripping spell. Simple but effective," she said to the wizard.

Snape looked up at her, then suddenly grabbed her ankle and yanked it out from under her, making her fall on her bum, then hopping on top of her and holding her down.

His emerald disappeared.

"Hey!" Hermione cried, struggling. "I thought you said physical contact is penalized!"

"It is, but I can afford to lose one gem in order to get the advantage. And I must say, this is quite the advantage," Snape purred down at her. They both looked up as Blaise stumbled by, still confounded. Then Snape looked back down at her.

"I'll let you go for a kiss," he said softly.

He didn't see Ron watching them. He had managed to get out of the tree, but was still in his underwear. He was frowning as he looked at his former girlfriend under Snape. He couldn't hear what he'd said however, but grimaced when he lowered his head and kissed her.

Oh, that's how it was, was it?

Ron cast a hex and Snape started scratching terribly, rolling off of Hermione and jumping up. They could hear Ron laughing from behind the trees. Hermione shot a Stupefy in his direction but missed him as Snape managed to remove the spell. Another jewel dropped into Ron's tube.

"Weasley," he hissed, then listened intently, his nostrils pulsating.

Snape's black eyes narrowed as he cast his spell.

"Imperio!" he cried, Hermione covering her mouth in shock as he cast the Unforgivable.

Ron emerged from the bushes, and Snape made him ballet dance in his underwear for a minute or two. Three jewels dropped into his tube. Then he released Ron and dashed into the forest.

The moment he recovered, Ron hexed Hermione with the Tarantallegra spell again, then ran off after Snape.

Hermione was really starting to hate that spell.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	37. Reviewing Part 2

**Chapter 36 ~ Reviewing (Part 2)**

Harry was the first to recover from being petrified. Draco laid beside him as he sat up, the pureblood's gray eyes shifting back and forth desperately.

"Easy target, Draco," he said, pointing his wand at him. Normally, Harry would think this very unfair and his "noble" Gryffindor nature would kick in—

But this was Draco.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar shout and rolled out of the way as Ginny sent a slew of flapping bat bogies at him. But Harry was familiar with bat bogeys and avoiding them, thanks to Ginny's temper.

Poor Draco was covered by them, and Harry fired his own hex back at Ginny. She dropped her wand, her fingers useless and dangling as if they were gummy worms. Still, a jewel dropped down into her tube.

"Harry! You prat! You used the Jelly-Fingers hex on me! I'm your girlfriend!" she hissed as she bent down and tried to pick up her wand. Her fingers just swung around a bit. Harry stood up, grinning.

"There's no friends or girlfriends in here, Ginny," he said as two jewels dropped into his tube. "Besides, you aimed those bogeys at me."

Draco was beginning to move now, the petrification spell wearing off and his face slowly starting to contort with disgust at his bogey coverage. At least they didn't get his face.

Harry pointed his wand at Draco.

"Impedimenta," he said, slowing the wizard down to a crawl as Ginny continued to drag her useless fingers over her wand ineffectually. Another jewel dropped into his tube.

"There," Harry said. "I've slowed Draco down. Maybe your fingers will recover before he does. Bye, Ginny!"

He ran off into the forest.

"Oh blast," Ginny hissed as Draco slowly tore away the first mucousy bogey from his robes. It was doubly disgusting because he did it so slowly and got to really feel how gross they were, strings of gooiness stretching from the horrible, nasty things. Ugh!

Snape ran through the forest, aware of Ron behind him. He paused, murmured something, then slashed his wand across the ground. He smiled then ran a little further and hid behind a tree to watch the fun.

Sure enough, Ron ran from between the trees in all his tighty-whitey glory, intent on hexing Snape to Kingdom Come, and crossed the line.

"Arrrrgh!" he cried as he was flung back into the forest and sprouted a long white beard.

Snape chuckled and took off, circling around Ron and heading back the other way. Hermione had been right. It was fun to hex people without being particularly angry at them.

"Bloody age line," Ron hissed, sitting on the forest floor and pulling at his beard for a few seconds before he got up. Now, he looked like an old man in his underwear.

Blaise began to recover and he was furious. He knew Ron had hexed him because he'd heard him gloating. He began moving through the trees, his eyes hard, when he saw Hermione standing in a lighted clearing. She was just standing there, her back to him, her wand in her hand.

"Oh, this is too easy," Blaise breathed with a smile, pointing his wand at her.

Harry saw her too, standing there, her back to him. But he was on the other side of the clearing.

"I've got you now," he breathed, pointing his wand at her.

Both he and Blaise fired hexes at the witch, their eyes rounding as the streams passed right through her. It was an illusion! Bait!

Blaise tried to run, but Hermione appeared behind him. He desperately threw an Expelliarmus at her, but she blocked it, and cast her own spell at him, which he blocked. They began dueling in earnest, Harry running across the clearing to where the flashing lights were rebounding.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, distracting Blaise for a moment.

"Duro!" Hermione cried, turning the Slytherin into stone. Four jewels dropped into her tube.

Harry blinked at the statue, then looked at Hermione.

"You turned him to stone?" he asked incredulously.

"Blaise's a nasty piece of work. You should have heard the spells he was casting at me," she replied, then tried to hex Harry, but he was expecting it and jumped behind a tree.

"Damn, Hermione, I didn't know you were so sneaky," he hissed. "Tarantallegra!"

"Oh no you don't!" Hermione cried, jumping behind a tree of her own. She'd had enough uncontrollable dancing for one night.

"Incarcerous!"

Suddenly, Hermione was bound to the tree she was standing behind by ropes.

"Hey!" she cried as Ron walked up. He looked like an old man in his underwear. Even though she was securely tied up, Hermione burst out laughing.

"What happened to you?" she asked him, grinning.

"Snape. Age line," he muttered as Harry stepped out, laughing too.

"Did your robes age and disintegrate?" Harry asked him.

"No. Also Snape," Ron hissed. "Wait until I get my wand on him—"

Ron stopped as he saw Blaise.

"Wow, who turned him to stone?"

"Hermione," Harry said. "Draco and Ginny are down for the moment, too. I got them."

"So that just leaves Snape creeping around. Help me get him, Harry."

Suddenly there was the sound of sticks crunching, and Ron paled as his decomposed brother Fred stepped out of the forest, walking towards him.

"Nooo!" Ron yelled, firing a blast at him. Hermione saw only a floating piece of parchment floating toward her, but by Ron's reaction, she knew it was a Boggart. Harry saw the jerky Voldemort approaching him again. Hermione took advantage of their distraction to work her wand around.

"Finite Incantatum," she breathed, removing her bindings.

"It's a Boggart, Ron," Harry told his terrified friend. "Use the Riddikulus spell. I can't. I've already used it once."

His wand trembling, Ron concentrated as his dead brother reached out his hands as if to grab him.

"Riddikulus!" he cried.

Fred's image flattened and folded itself into a paper airplane and flew away into the forest.

"That was horrible! It was Fred—dead and rotting," Ron breathed, a bit green around the gills.

"I saw Voldemort," Harry responded. The two wizards stood side by side, looking at the empty space and breathing hard.

"Densaugeo!" Hermione cried, hitting both of them with one hex. Two jewels dropped into her tube.

Harry and Ron spun just in time to see her sprint off into the woods as their front teeth began to grow at an amazing rate. They hurried to stop the spell.

"Shift! Finite Incantatum!"

"Finite Incantatum!"

The teeth stopped just above their chins giving them a kind of Bugs Bunny groove.

"Jusft great," Harry said, feeling his elongated choppers. They could stop the spell, but they'd have to go to Poppy to fix the length of them. Ron's beard finally disappeared, but a bit of white hair was caught under his teeth. He pulled it away.

"I'mf going to killsh her!" he swore, taking off after Hermione. Harry ran after him.

Snape was helplessly bent over by a tree, holding his stomach. He'd watched the whole thing and was doing his best not to let them hear him laughing. Oh, that was funny! He straightened and walked over to Blaise, examining him.

"Hermione has skills," he said softly. "Run a tube through your arse and you'd make a nice fountain."

Snape was unaware that Blaise could see and hear him and was more than furious. Just wait until this spell wore off.

Snape turned and walked in the direction Harry and Ron took. So, they were going to team up on him, eh? Well, that was just fine by him.

Hermione watched as Harry and Ron ran by her, covering her mouth with her hand so they wouldn't hear her laugh. She was about to ambush them when she heard someone else, and stayed behind the tree.

Snape slowed his walking.

He smelled something—or someone rather. He smiled and slightly changed direction.

Hermione waited for whoever it was to show him or herself. She hoped it was Ginny. She hadn't faced her yet.

"Incarcerous!" a soft voice hissed as ropes wrapped around her and the tree she was behind.

"Oh, not again," she groaned, then Snape's face appeared very close to hers. An emerald dropped into his tube.

"Another rather interesting situation," he said to her, and she flushed.

"Are we ever going to face off?" Hermione said, trying to shake off the excited feeling running through her.

"Oh, I'm sure we will, but I think you're ahead in the competition. Turning Blaise to stone was a stroke of genius. And a bit of nasty magic to boot."

"He was using dark curses," she said. "So, I treated him accordingly."

"A bit of tit for tat, eh?"

"Something like that," Hermione responded. She was slowly twisting her wand about. Just because she was tied up didn't mean she couldn't cast a spell.

"Well, I think another kiss is in order," Snape said, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Merlin, his mouth was so soft. But Hermione steeled herself.

"Incarcerous," she whispered against his lips.

Snape was immediately bound up by ropes and wide-eyed, fell to the ground as Hermione quickly removed her own bindings, then snatched his wand out of his hand.

"That was dirty Quidditch, Hermione, hexing a wizard while he was 'engaged,'" he told her, frowning.

"Next time, you'd better make sure we're both engaged," she said, smiling at him. "You should be more concerned with throwing hexes than stealing kisses."

"I prefer the kisses."

Hermione tossed his wand down a little distance from him. With a bit of wriggling and rolling, he should be able to get it, hopefully before anyone else found him.

"Next time we meet, Severus, be prepared to have at it," she said warningly.

"I'm always prepared to have at it with you, Hermione. You're the one not ready."

Hermione colored and stiffly walked away into the forest. Snape immediately started working his way toward his wand.

* * *

Unfortunately for Ginny, Draco's spell wore off first, and he was pissed about the bat bogeys.

"Ugh!" he hissed as he Scourgified himself. "I wish I knew that blasted spell. I'd coat you in bogeys," he said to Ginny, who was desperately trying to pick up her wand. Some firmness was beginning to return to her fingers, but not fast enough.

"Now, let's see," Draco said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I haven't made many points for myself, so this has to be a good spell. Hmmm."

Ginny fumbled and pushed at the wand with her fingers. Draco saw the movement and discerned she was getting her coordination back. He pointed his wand at hers.

"Accio wand," he said lazily, and her wand zoomed over to him. He caught it neatly. Ginny straightened and looked at him narrow-eyed.

"Give me back my wand, Draco. I'm defenseless without it."

"Just how I like you," the wizard purred at her with a smile. Suddenly, it left his face.

" Furnunculus!" he roared, casting the spell and covering Ginny in boils. They weren't painful, but ugly as hell.

Three jewels dropped into Draco's tube. He tossed her wand back at her.

"You might want to use an Episkey to clear those up, Weasley," he said as he walked into the forest.

"Ooh," Ginny hissed as she managed to grip her wand with her boil-covered finger-tips. "I'm going to kill him AND Harry."

* * *

Harry and Ron were walking through the forest when suddenly they were flung backwards and both sprouted beards.

"Damn it. Snape's age line is still working," Ron said as Harry pulled at his long white beard. Two jewels fell into Snape's tube.

Harry stood up and marked a big white X on a nearby tree.

"That'll let us know when we're near it," he said to Ron. "Come on, let's find him."

They continued on. Behind them, the X faded from the tree. The ROR wasn't giving anyone any advantages.

A few minutes later, Hermione showed up, still following Harry and Ron. She stepped across the age line, was flung back on her arse and sprouted a beard.

"Bloody hell," she seethed, pulling at her beard in agitation. "Who put that there?"

Another jewel fell into Snape's tube. He was effortlessly gaining points.

But, this gave Hermione an idea. Throwing her long beard over her shoulder, she changed directions, going back the other way.

Snape smelled her approaching, but stepped aside and let her pass unmolested. He wanted to deal with Potter and Weasley first, then—he and Hermione could have their moment.

When he was sure she was gone, Snape started walking again. He too crossed the age line, was flung back on his arse and sprouted a long white beard. Furious, he got up, stepping on it. He lifted his beard in one hand, stalked over to the general area of the line, pointed his wand at it and said, "Finite Incantatum," ending the spell.

"Stupid age line. Sectumsempra!"

He cut off most of the beard and continued on, robes billowing.

* * *

A/N: You know, I just realized something. I'm going to have to go back and count ALL these jewels to find out who's winning. Right now, I think it could be Snape because of the age line, but Hermione's close. I'm pretty sure Blaise is losing. Serves him right for fighting dirty. I hope others are keeping score too. I might need some help here. Lol. Thanks for reading. ***


	38. Reviewing The Finale

**Chapter 37 ~ Reviewing (The Finale)**

Draco ducked behind a tree as he saw someone standing right at the edge of a clearing. He began creeping around the perimeter, staying to the trees. The person didn't move. Finally, he got close enough to see it was Blaise, and he was turned to stone!

Draco emerged, studying him and shaking his head.

"Not good, Blaise," he said, pointing his wand at him. "Finite Incantatum."

The wizard returned to the flesh and was furious.

"That bitch Granger did that to me," he hissed at Draco. "It was dirty Quidditch. She's not going to get away with that!"

"How was it dirty Quidditch, Blaise? It looks to me as if she got the drop on you, just like she did me. It happens," he said, a bit alarmed at the look in his housemate's eyes.

"Nobody turns me to stone!" Blaise raged. "Nobody. Wait until I see her . . ."

Blaise streaked into the forest, Draco blinking after him. Blaise had a terrible temper and didn't mind hexing anyone when their back was turned. Nor did he have a problem using painful, hurtful or even damaging hexes.

He'd have to try and talk to him before he found Granger.

*************************************

Harry and Ron were walking through a clearing when they heard Snape calling them. The only problem was they couldn't tell where he was calling them from. His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Ginny heard him calling, too, but from her vantage point she had some idea what direction it came from. Snape had used a spell that only affected Ron and Harry, who were in front of him. Ginny quietly ran toward the voice.

"Where are you, Snape? Get out here," Ron cried, waving his wand about as he and Harry stood back to back, presenting a united front.

When Snape said, "I'm closer th—" Harry quickly cast a Finite Incantatum spell and stopped the voice throwing, and as Snape finished the sentence, they both oriented on the area and fired.

"Reducto!" Ron cried, blasting a hole in a tree. He was right on the mark. A jewel dropped into his tube.

Snape dashed from behind the tree just as Harry cast the same spell at the next tree. Snape had to stop and wheel his arms to keep from being splintered along with the wood. Harry received another jewel.

Ron took aim at him but had to hit the dirt when Snape pointed his wand at a small boulder and snarled, "Waddiwasi!" causing it to fly toward Ron and Harry, who dodged it.

Snape smelled someone and whirled just as Ginny tried to hex him from behind. He blocked her spell and fired a Tarantallegra spell at her. Hermione wasn't the only one who got to dance that night.

Dancing, Ginny shouted, "Locomotor Mortis!" and tried to lock Snape's legs together, but she was dancing too hard to aim properly. The hex whizzed over Harry's head.

"Hey!" he shouted, firing back at Ginny, who barely danced out of the way, then removed Snape's spell from her legs.

Blaise heard the shout and ran toward it, his eyes narrowed. He hardly had any points and he planned to make up for it.

"Blaise! Wait!" Draco cried, chasing him.

Hermione heard Draco. Her beard was gone by now. She took off in that direction.

The opponents were now all converging on one area.

Snape was now in the clearing proper, and he was battling both Harry and Ron, hexes flying back and forth, all three blocking and returning fire. Snape was fast, and used his billowing robes much like a matador used his cape to draw the pointed horns of the bull away from his body.

Ginny joined in from the forest perimeter, using the trees for protection, aiming at Ron, Harry and Snape indiscriminately. She caught Ron with the Serpensortia spell, a huge python appearing and wrapping around the nearly naked wizard until he looked like he was encased by a thick, glistening green sausage casing, only his head sticking out.

Harry removed the snake, but was hit by Snape while distracted, the wizard casting a spell he'd created that locked a person's tongue to the roof of his mouth.

Harry wouldn't be able to say incantations. He could cast some wordless spells, but he'd used most of those already. Damn. All he could do was avoid and block now. Blocking didn't require words, thank goodness, just intent.

Suddenly "Stupefy!" was shouted behind Ginny and she crumpled, knocked out. Blaise ran by her and into the clearing. He didn't waste any time.

"Incendio Grande!" he screamed, shooting a huge fireball, large enough to engulf all three wizards as Draco looked on in horror for a moment, then cast the Aguamenti spell in an attempt to put it out. He might as well have tried to throw a thimble full of water on a house fire for all the good it did. The stream simply sizzled away, the fireball was so hot.

Snape ran to Harry, pushed him closer to Ron and pointed his wand at the approaching burning ball of flame.

"Protego!" he cried, crouching and closing his eyes as the protective shield formed over them, placing a barrier between them and the fire, sizzling heat washing over and around them, their hair and clothing fluttering in the aftermath as it crashed into the trees and exploded. But the trees didn't catch fire. The ROR was keeping the arena relatively safe.

Blaise received two jewels for effort. He turned to Draco. "You tried to stop my spell!" he snarled at him, firing a blast which Draco blocked.

"You can't use spells like that! You'll kill someone!"

"They would have only been badly burned. Snape said we could use painful spells! I need points. All the points I can get right now! Where's that bitch Granger?"

"Blaise, this is just a review," Draco told him. "Calm down."

"For you it's a review, but for me—it's war!" Blaise cried, turning and pointing his wand upward.

"Demonus Incendius!"

"Oh shit," Draco hissed, running away as the fire demon formed, snarling down at Snape, Ron and Harry.

"What the fuck is that!" Ron cried, his blue eyes reflecting the blaze as the creature grew larger.

"It's a fire demon. Blaise seems to have a fixation with flame," Snape said as the demon gained more bulk. It looked a lot like the demon he banished but it seemed to be made of magma, with flame wrapped around its body.

"A fixation? He's a gods damn pyromaniac!"

The wizards scattered as the demon thrust a palm at them while waving its arm in a semi-circle, sending a sweeping stream of fire in their direction. Harry fell flat to the ground and shot a stream of ice at it, and the thing recoiled, writhing in agony. He hadn't shouted the spell, but desperation strengthened his intent and so, he was able to cast it despite not being able to speak.

Blaise tried to hex Harry to stop his offense, but had to duck Snape's hex and drew back. Ron followed Harry's suit, sending more ice at the fire demon. It was becoming sluggish and losing flame. Snape continued to keep Blaise busy while Harry and Ron took on the demon. They had switched to water now, the demon growing tinier and tinier until it disappeared, leaving only a tiny wisp of smoke.

Still, Blaise got three more jewels for casting the spell and engaging all three wizards. He was quickly making up for lost time. Ginny stirred as Hermione appeared just in time to see Blaise cut a swatch in the forest floor, sending dirt and stones raining down on the three wizards, attempting to blind them. Snape threw up his robes and dived to the side. Harry's glasses protected his eyes but dirt got into his mouth. Poor Ron was blinded, letting out a cry and wiping at his eyes.

"Duro!" Blaise hissed, turning him to stone. He had been off-balance when hit by the spell and toppled to his back.

"Ron! Ginny shouted, running into the clearing, followed by Hermione. Everyone was oriented on Blaise, whose eyes were full of malice and hatred. He saw Hermione and snarled, then cast a smoke spell, filling the clearing with black, thick smoke.

"Where is he?" Ginny cried. She shouldn't have because Blaise oriented on her immediately.

"Incarcerus Proprius!"

A metal chain erupted from his wand and bound Ginny tightly, her wand falling from her hand as she fell over unable to see.

"Don't speak!" Snape yelled through the smoke, diving aside as he did so. A beam of light zipped through the area he had occupied.

But Hermione cast a powerful wind spell, blowing the smoke away, revealing everyone, then was hit by Blaise with the Divesto spell, which left her nude.

Hermione screamed, crouching to try and cover herself. Snape roared "Impedimenta!" as Blaise started to cast his worst spell yet at Hermione—a spell Snape knew the moment he heard the first syllables.

His spell.

"Sectumsempra—" Blaise screamed, then he slowed, the slicing motion of his arm slowing to a crawl as Snape ran for Hermione and dove on her, taking her out of harm's way. They rolled, and Snape quickly removed his robes and placed them over the witch. Harry was trying to take the Duro spell off of Ron, but still couldn't speak, and Ginny was groaning in pain as the chains cut into her skin. Blaise was a nasty piece of work.

Draco leaned against a tree, his heart pounding as he heard the cries and blasts coming from the clearing. He felt as if he couldn't breathe and the forest was closing in on him. His legs wouldn't work.

Unable to help Ron, Harry ran over to Ginny, pulling at the chains, trying to loosen them. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pain and Harry pointed his wand at her, mentally commanding it to work for him with all his might. Suddenly, the chains disappeared, and Harry pulled her into his arms, her skin marked by the chains.

Snape and Hermione stood up, the wizard's eyes narrowed murderously at Blaise. He'd tried to cut Hermione in half, without anything to protect her. He stalked over to Blaise, who was still under the Impedimenta spell and punched him in the face as hard as he could, several of his jewels disappearing as the wizard slowly toppled, blood slowly gushing from his nose.

"Severus! No! Let me! Release the spell!" Hermione said darkly, her brown eyes fixed on Blaise.

Angrily, Snape removed the spell, Blaise crashing to the ground. He held his wand on him.

"Get up and face Hermione," Snape hissed at him. From his position with Ginny, Harry also held his wand on Blaise, not sure if he could hex him, but damn well ready to try. Both of Ginny's shoulders were dislocated by the tight chains, so her arms were useless.

Blaise stood up, his brown eyes shifting from Snape to Harry as he wiped the blood from his nose and onto his robes. He then looked at Hermione, who took a defensive stance. The robes she wore dragged on the ground. They were too long for her.

"Reducto!" Blaise cried, aiming not for Hermione but the heavy tree limbs above her.

"Protego!" Hermione screamed, covering herself with a shield as the limbs crashed down on her. Blaise tried to hex her, but the charm held.

Snape watched with glittering eyes, fighting not to hex Blaise in the back, the dirty bastard. This was a review, not a true duel. Hermione quickly removed the shield and fired at Blaise, who had his wand ready to block.

It didn't do him any good.

"Expulso!' Hermione hissed, aiming at the ground in front of Blaise, which exploded, blasting him backwards, almost into Snape, who stepped aside as the wizard slammed into a tree. Hermione raced forward as fast as she could, holding up Snape's robes. She held the tip of her wand against Blaise's throat, her eyes narrowed.

A gong sounded, signaling the end of the review.

Harry's tongue loosened and he cast an Episkey on Ginny's shoulders, repairing them, then ran over to Ron and released him from Blaise's stone curse. Ron stood up weakly, getting his bearings, still in his underwear.

"You're lucky this is over, Blaise," Hermione hissed at him, taking his wand then lowering her own. Blaise blinked at her, then painfully straightened.

"I was playing to win," he said sullenly, wiping at his nose again and looking at Snape murderously.

"You hit me. You were penalized," he said to the pale wizard.

"It was worth it," he told him, then looked at Hermione. "Looks like we're going to have to have a private duel, Hermione. Clearly, you've won the review."

Hermione sighed. The whole idea was to blast Severus on his arse at least once. But, these things were unpredictable. No one knew Blaise would be such a dark horse.

"You'll get your wand back when we leave, Blaise," Hermione said. Suddenly "Folliculus Deletrius" was yelled out and a hex flew by her, striking Blaise in the head.

All of his hair fell out.

"Arrrgh!" he cried, clutching his bald, brown head and feeling it all over.

"Oops," Ginny said from the ground, her wand still pointed at him. "Is the review over?"

"You little—" Blaise seethed.

"Watch it, Blaise," Ron growled at him as he flicked his wand over his body and created a robe. Everyone looked at him.

"What?" he asked as they stared at his clothed body. Snape smirked.

"Ronald Weasley. You had the means to put on robes and didn't do it?" Hermione said to him, frowning in distaste as Ron made a big production of fixing his robes.

"No. I was 'in the moment,'" he replied. "It's a lot easier to cast spells without robes getting in the way. The sleeves can be murder."

Harry helped Ginny up and scowled at Blaise. This wasn't over. He really tried to take them out. Suddenly, Ron looked around.

"Where's Draco?" he asked.

"I don't know. The last I saw of him he was trying to put out the fireball," Snape said.

Draco emerged from the woods, looking pale and drawn. Not well at all. His entire demeanor was one of shame. He hadn't made a good showing at all. Maybe deep down, he really was a coward.

"I—I didn't do so well," he said softly, looking down at the ground. "I panicked. Sorry."

Everyone just looked at him. Ron was the first to speak.

"At least you didn't fight on house lines," he said. "That's something, Draco."

"Yeah. Well, I'm ready to leave."

He walked back through the woods.

"Come on, let's see the count," Hermione said, looking up at Severus. "You lost a few points, I'm sure. You shouldn't have punched Blaise."

Snape shrugged.

"It was never about the points for me anyway. It was about the effectiveness of what I did cast. But, I have to admit, Hermione, you're pretty good."

Hermione swelled.

"Pretty good? What do you mean, 'pretty good?'"

"Well, you have to admit you lost your head when you lost your clothes."

"Ooh," Hermione hissed as Snape strode by her and into the woods. They heard a little yell from Draco.

"What was that? It sounded like Draco! Come on!" Harry cried, starting to run, followed by Ginny, Ron and Blaise. They ran past Snape and Hermione, through the woods.

"Let's keep up," Hermione said, starting to run, too. Not wanting to be left behind, Snape joined her.

The forest thinned as they all approached the starting point, jogging almost neck and neck. They saw Draco, standing before the tubes with his back to them, looking up.

"Draco! We heard you yell. Are you all right?" Harry called to him.

Just as they reached the perimeter, everyone except for Hermione was flung backwards and sprouted a beard. Stunned, they all looked up at her as she stood by the tubes of jewels, hers filled almost to overflowing and easily outdistancing Snape's tube. This was followed by Blaise's tube and Ron, Harry's and Ginny's tubes were almost tied. Draco had only a couple of emeralds in his tube, clearly the loser.

Draco also sported a long white beard. He had been the first to cross the line.

Hermione shrugged and smiled as she removed the spell with her wand and looked down at her bearded friends

"Age line. Nineteen and over," she said with a wicked grin before bolting out the door, hexes hitting the wall harmlessly behind her.

* * *

A/N: I decided not to do the jewel count thing and just give a random idea based on what happened. I hope it was exciting, and sorry to disappoint everyone who wanted a Snape/Hermione stand off. But, we can still have it, just one on one. Thanks for reading.


	39. Mutual Realizations

**Chapter 38 ~ Mutual Realizations**

"What? You saw Snape snogging Hermione?" Harry asked Ron incredulously. He, Ginny and Ron were heading for Gryffindor tower. Hermione had gone on ahead, and was probably studying in her rooms.

Ron's brow furrowed.

"Well, I can't actually call it snogging, Harry. I mean, he had her pinned down on the ground, but he didn't really snog her—you know, snogging is kind of heavy kissing. He kind of just gave her a little kiss. No tongue. If it was me who had her in that position, I would have gone tonsil diving—"

Ginny made a face.

"You're so romantic, Ron," she said witheringly.

"I know," Ron replied, Ginny's sarcasm flying right over his head. "Still Hermione looked kind of surprised, but not angry—then I hexed him with an itching spell."

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Oh come on, Ginny. Like you wouldn't have done the same thing. It was the perfect opportunity to get a couple of points," Ron countered.

"So, why didn't you hex Hermione, too?" Ginny asked him. "If it was just points you were after."

"I did. Just—later," Ron said a bit sullenly. He didn't tell them about Snape putting him under the Imperio spell and making him dance in his underwear. That had been humiliating.

"Come on, Ron, weren't you a little jealous? Snape kissing Hermione?" Harry asked him.

Ron hunched his shoulders a bit.

"Yeah, but not as much as you'd think, Harry. I don't know. You saw how he saved her from Blaise. He didn't even get a good look at her naked—he just covered her right up with his robes, then punched Blaise."

They walked in silence for a few feet, then Ron added, "She seems a lot happier now. Not so stressed."

"Are you happier?"

"Not really, but I'm not so bad off."

Just then, a witch with a long plait down her back walked by them. She was holding a glistening, dark, rich Bishop's cake, filled with Brazil nuts, dates, and red and green glazed cherries. It rested on a decorative plate. Ron stopped nose-first as the witch passed, closing his eyes and taking a whiff. He turned mechanically.

"Oh, Merlin," he breathed, following her as if under the Imperius again.

Harry and Ginny just watched him for a moment, then shook their heads and kept going. Witches didn't put Ron on the prowl—but food? That was a completely different story. Harry used to tease him sometimes, saying he would rather wank off to illustrated cookbooks rather than girly magazines.

Ron followed the witch a few paces behind then saw she was descending into the dungeon area opposite the Slytherin corridor. The Hufflepuff side. He hurried to catch her.

"Susan!" he called.

Susan Bones stopped, turned and gave Ron a smile as he walked up, his blue eyes resting on the cake.

"Hi Ron," she said, still smiling.

Susan Bones was a Hufflepuff, and used to be a member of Dumbledore's Army. Like Helga Hufflepuff, she had a way with food that was almost magical.

"Hi," Ron said, licking his lips a little as he looked at the glistening confection. "That cake looks delicious."

"Thank you," Susan replied. "It's a birthday cake I made for Megan Jones. She just turned eighteen."

"Oh," Ron said, disappointment in his voice. He could hardly ask for a piece of cake before the birthday witch had a slice.

"Um—I saw your form the other day," Susan said, turning a little pink.

Ron's eyes shifted from the cake to Susan's face, and he grinned.

"Pretty cool form, eh?" he said rather proudly.

"Oh, it is—except---"

"I know. The nads," Ron said with a wicked grin. "But, it's an animal, so that shouldn't matter."

Susan's blush turned deeper.

"Yes—about – about the sexual organs. It's a shame really—"

Ron looked shocked.

"A shame? What are you talking about?"

"Well, it's such a great form, but a shame that it's—er---anatomically incorrect. You can get points for being an Animagus for the NEWTS, but if the form is altered, then you don't get full points."

"What do you mean, Susan?" Ron asked her, alarmed. "Altered?"

Susan relaxed a bit now.

"Well, I like animals, and I looked up your orangutan form in Newt Scamander's Muggle Beasties and Where to Find Them. An orangutan's penis is about an inch long and very tiny."

"What?"

Susan nodded.

"So, you're off about eight or nine inches. But your scrotum is the right size."

Ron blinked at her, stunned.

"I don't bloody believe it. My nads are too big?"

"For an orangutan, yes," Susan replied. "I guess you didn't know. I'm sorry, Ron."

"No. No, I didn't," he said, appearing to visibly wilt. Susan felt bad for him.

"But everything else about it is all right," she said, trying to lift his spirits, but Ron was crushed. The orangutan was a good form, but it was—deformed. He hadn't known that. He assumed a big ape would have big nads. Nature was a cruel mistress.

"I'm—I'm going to go, Susan. Nice cake," Ron said, turning and heading for the marble stairwell. Susan looked after him, her brown eyes sad. She hadn't meant to knock the wind out of his robes. She sighed, and continued on to Hufflepuff house.

***************************************

Harry laughed so hard he fell off the side of his bed and onto the floor, curling up and holding his stomach as Ron glared at him.

"It's not funny, Harry," he hissed at his insensitive friend.

"An—an inch? Ahahahahaha!" Harry gasped. "Gods, I'm going to piss myself."

"I hope you do," Ron growled at him, plopping down on his bed.

This was awful. He could still document the transformation and the information he'd learned, but not getting perfect marks for the form was a real downer. He'd still do quite well, but not as well as he wanted.

"Maybe I should wear shorts," he muttered.

Harry climbed back up in the bed, lifting up his glasses and wiping at his wet eyes, trying to get himself under control. But, damn, that was funny. A creature that big having a cock so tiny. It was like a celestial joke or something.

"Oh, come on, Ron. So you have great big nads. Actually, I think it's better than having little ones. What would the witches think?" he said. "Better they think you have a huge one than next to nothing."

Ron made a noise.

"And the wizards. If your nads were that tiny you would have never heard the end of it, Ron, believe me. It might be a deformation, but—it works for you. So, you don't get a few points. You wouldn't be getting any extra points at all if you hadn't found your Animagus form. Look at it that way," Harry told him. "Your form is—is 'enhanced.' Suitable for a wizard. The other way—"

Ron looked up at Harry and realized he was right. Sure, his form might not get perfect marks, but at least he wasn't going to appear prickless when transformed. First impressions were everything. It wasn't a far jump to figure if he had a big ape cock, then his human form couldn't be far behind. Better big than little.

"You're right, Harry. I should just count my blessings, shouldn't I?"

Harry nodded, then grimaced as Ron turned into the orangutan, walked over to the mirror and started swinging his nads around while making cooing noises. He certainly recovered quickly.

Sometimes, too quickly.

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, slowly unbuttoning Severus' robes, looking thoughtful. He might have saved her life tonight. Blaise's spell could have been fatal. She blushed a little at the thought of him tackling her naked, but he didn't even look at her body really. He removed his robes and covered her immediately, nothing but concern on his face—and then anger.

His robes smelled like him, only kind of earthy, probably from rolling around on the forest floor trying to get his wand after she tied him up. She smiled a little as she remembered his surprise when she hexed him while he was kissing her. He had such a gentle kiss—it made her wonder a little about—about how he'd be in an intimate situation.

Probably rather clumsy and—fast, like most wizards starting out. It was hard to imagine Severus Snape being clumsy about anything, but sex for the first time was never smooth. Still, he'd probably learn quickly—

Hermione colored. Why was she even thinking about sex and Severus in the same sentence?

She wanted to shag him, that was why. And it embarrassed her that she'd thought about it every single time he kissed her. It embarrassed her because—because she'd always believed there should be some kind of commitment when a witch was intimate with a wizard. You didn't just—do it because you wanted to do it. You just didn't give a man your body like that.

"He'd be giving something, too," a little voice said in her head.

Commitment. Hermione couldn't make a commitment to anyone right now. The NEWTS had taken over her life. That was what went wrong with her and Ron. Well, not the only thing. Her plans for the future didn't jibe either.

She slowly opened Snape's robes and looked down on her nude body. Her nipples were hard, and it wasn't from coldness. It was because of Severus. He didn't expect any commitment. He just said he'd be there—anyway she wanted him.

Hermione felt a delicious shudder quake her body. Merlin.

She didn't know if seeing him in action in the ROR had anything to do with it, or his saving her from being sliced by Blaise. Could it be she just felt she owed him something and was thinking about sex with him because she knew it was what he wanted?

He never actually said it. That he wanted to shag her, but it was clear he did, by his kisses and innuendos. He'd told her he was a virgin and it seemed he didn't want to stay one. He didn't—push, but in a way he did. Hermione found she wanted to push right back.

Why not? It wasn't as if she were a virgin, although she didn't really have much experience other than a bit of hot snogging and being penetrated by Ron. For Hermione, the kissing and caressing had been much better than the sex, but there was a lot of fumbling going on, stopping and starting that kept interfering with the mood. It wasn't anything like the way she thought it would be, which was why they only did it once.

Would it be the same way with Severus? It could be worse. Ron wasn't a virgin when they shagged, just nervous because he was with Hermione and he cared about her. So, it made him hesitant and cautious. If he had been more aggressive, it would have been better for her, and she would have been able to feel his passion rather than his worry.

But she could feel Severus. She didn't know what it was about him. Maybe it was because he was like her in a lot of ways. Marks and study really mattered to him. Or maybe it was just because of who he used to be and who he would become. Or was it that she'd like to be the one to pop his cherry?

Hermione colored again.

It really could be that simple. She could just want to be his first and have that claim. Not that she'd share it with anyone, but—it was rather appealing, if naughty. Hermione knew she had a naughty streak. She tried to hide it, push it down, but it popped up now and again, like in the ROR. She could have told everyone about the age line once the review stopped, but she didn't.

And she did sort of toss Severus on his arse after the fact.

Hermione sat there in Snape's robes, unwilling to take them off, the fabric clinging to her nude body. They smelled like him, although she couldn't say what the scent was exactly like. She laid down on her back in the bed, and folded them over her, closing her eyes and seeing his face.

She sighed and pulled his robes tighter around her body as she felt a tingling between her thighs. She shifted, then rather guiltily opened his robes and ran her hands over her body before slipping two fingers between her wet folds and masturbating gently, imagining Severus on top of her. But playing with herself wasn't good enough.

She was going to have to do something about this.

* * *

Snape sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. He was in his shirt and trousers. Hermione still had his robes.

The firelight reflected in his dark eyes as he sat there, one hand curled around the glass of Firewhiskey on the rocks that he'd made for himself. He sipped it slowly.

Everyone had been quite good at the review but Hermione was brilliant. So was Blaise, really. But he was a dark one for sure. Snape didn't show all of his spells, the ones he didn't write in his Advanced Potions book. He just used the basics. It was better not to show one's hand.

Harry didn't do badly, but Snape knew instinctively that the boy who lived didn't have the heart to be truly nasty. He'd managed to kill Voldemort, but it was with the help of the Elder Wand. And in all of his adventures, he was basically defending either himself or those he cared about.

Ron, Snape knew he could be a nasty piece of work if he were so inclined. And his sister Ginny—Merlin, she was a sneaky, self-serving little witch. She might have done well in Slytherin.

Draco, he had a good heart under all that handsomeness, but he didn't like putting himself in danger at all. He had the flight instinct, not the fight instinct. Self-preservation at its finest. He wasn't a total coward. His attempt to stop Blaise's fireball hex showed that, but Snape wouldn't trust him to have his back in a hard situation.

Hermione, however, didn't seem to have a problem with getting nasty if someone was getting nasty first. She was a powerful witch and a good duelist. He might have to break out a few of his original spells to duel her, and he had a feeling that, like him, Hermione hadn't shown nearly a quarter of the spells she knew.

He frowned slightly. She'd been naked, and he'd had his hands on her, but didn't get a chance to enjoy it. He remembered softness, and a glimpse of skin, but that was it. He had been so afraid for her and so angry at Blaise that he covered her quickly.

But, she was soft and warm.

He felt himself swell a little and wondered if he should be more aggressive towards her. This waiting around for her to come around wasn't conducive to his deflowerment at all.

He swallowed down the rest of his Firewhiskey, then set the glass on the small table between the armchairs. He closed his eyes, seeing Hermione standing in the forest, draped in his robes, naked and accessible underneath them.

He got a full erection.

"Merlin," he hissed, undoing his belt so he could relieve his urges. He didn't do this often, but—he needed relief.

"Damn," he groaned as he stood up and pulled out his cock, his trousers dropping around his thighs. He spit into his palm and began slowly fisting his tool, pointing it at the fireplace as he focused on Hermione. But wanking off just wasn't good enough.

He was going to have to do something about this.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	40. Awkward Beginnings

* * *

**Chapter 39 ~ Awkward Beginnings**

Ron dreamed he was in a forest where Bishop cakes grew like fruits from trees, fragrant, dark and glistening as they hung from the branches, ready to be plucked and eaten. The only problem was when he'd jump to harvest them, the limbs would lift, swinging the luscious cakes out of reach. He groaned in his sleep, tossing and turning, tormented by his dream, the sweet scent of the cakes filling his nostrils. Then, they shriveled away on the boughs, leaving nothing but burnt little husks.

"No!" Ron cried sitting up and blinking around wildly in the gray dawn. Harry's brow wrinkled at the shout. He snorfled and rolled over, still sound asleep. Ron rubbed his eyes, a horrified expression on his face. That had been a total nightmare. All those luscious, wasted cakes—

"That was bloody awful," he groaned, dropping back to the bed.

But he could still smell the cakes. How was that possible? He sat back up and noticed a cardboard box tied with yellow and black string sitting on the end of his bed.

"What's that?" he asked no one in particular, but leaned down and hooked the string with one finger and drew the box up to the bed. He sniffed. Yes, that heavenly smell came from the mysterious package.

"Oh—please," Ron breathed, quickly untying the string and reverently opening the box. It was as if the clouds parted and a choir of angels began to sing as he looked inside.

It was a Bishop cake, glistening and packed with nuts, dates, and everything else that made the confection so delicious. On top of the cake was a little note.

_Dear Ron,___

You looked very upset when you left, so I went down to the kitchens and baked this for you, hoping it would make you feel better. The House Elves were very accommodating and delivered it for me. I hope it helps. And you really do have a wonderful Animagus form.

Susan Bones

Ron blinked at the message. She'd cooked the cake just for him? Especially for him?

He lifted the box, smelling the cake again, his mouth watering. He looked over at Harry covetously and for a split second resembled a miser hunched protectively over his box of gold or even Sméagol drooling lustfully over his lovely magic ring.

_My precious._

No, Ron wasn't that bad. Maybe he'd save Harry a piece.

A small piece.

He set the box down between his spread legs. The cake was almost too pretty to eat. Ron blinked at it again, then greedily tore off a piece with his fingers and stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes went half-lidded and he slumped with pleasure as he chewed and swallowed. It was even more delicious than it looked. It was as good as his mum's cake, blasphemous as that was to think.

"Thanks, Susan," he said around another piece of cake.

* * *

Just before breakfast, Susan walked out of the stairwell that opened on the entrance hall to find Ron waiting for her.

"That cake was delicious, Susan. Thank you," Ron said to her with a smile.

Susan blinked at him.

"Was? You ate the whole thing? I only sent it a couple of hours ago," she said to him. She looked a little tired. She had stayed up late making his cake.

"The whole thing," Ron replied, rubbing his stomach. "Now, I'm going to wash it down with breakfast."

Susan laughed. She had a very pretty laugh.

"You must have some metabolism," she said, starting to walk toward the Great Hall.

Ron walked alongside her.

"I can eat anything and not gain a pound," he told her.

"That must be nice. As you can see, I'm a bit on the heavy side. One of my NEWTS is in Muggle Studies, and I'm trying to get excellent marks in my chosen topic, 'Improving the Muggle Meal.' I've adapted Muggle recipes using a bit of magic. I don't want to let too many other people taste the food or the impact of what I've done would be ruined. So, I have to taste everything myself. The result—well, you can see what that is."

Ron looked Susan over. Yes, she was rather thick, but curvy in all the right places. She didn't look too bad at all to him. She even had a couple of freckles. Ron liked freckles since he had them too.

"You don't look bad at all, Susan," he said to the witch, not as a compliment but just a statement of fact as far as he was concerned. Still, Susan flushed with pleasure. "But, if tasting your own cooking is an issue, I could taste your food for you. My taste buds are supreme. My mum is a wonderful cook, everyone raves about her food. So I can tell you what tastes good and what doesn't."

Susan looked hesitant.

"I don't know, Ron. It's not just about taste," she said, lowering her voice so others passing wouldn't hear her. "Some of the food is magical because of the ingredients I use, almost like potions. For example, my spinach puffs make you very strong. My carrot cake improves your vision. Things like that. You'd be like a lab rat, testing everything."

Ron was very impressed. Food magic? Wow! People cast spells on food or added potions to make it do things, but to actually cook the magic into a meal? That was quite an ability. He'd be willing to give it a go, providing she didn't want him to test anything poisonous.

"It can get rather time-consuming, too," Susan added. "You'd have to sit around and wait some of the time because I cook several different courses simultaneously."

Several courses? Now Ron was really interested in becoming Susan's food taster.

"I've sat in the kitchen at home for hours waiting for mum to finish cooking. I'm a veteran. Come on, Susan. I'm always hungry. Supper only stays with me an hour or two. The food just—burns up. I need more carbs. You'd be doing me a favor."

Susan laughed again, then said, "All right, Ron. Meet me in the kitchens after supper. I promise you'll go to bed filled to the gills."

Ron gave her a big smile as he opened the door for her to enter the Great Hall.

"That's great, Susan, just great," he replied.

* * *

"Here's your robes. I—I Scourgified them," Hermione said to a quiet Severus the next day when she came to his rooms for lunch.

He took the robes, then put his nose to them, inhaling. He closed his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing as Hermione looked at him, reddening. His dark eyes opened and rested on her.

"They still smell like you," he informed her. "The scent of you clings to the fabric. It's even more female than you smelled the day you kissed me. It's—it's so much stronger. There's some perspiration, but the other scent, I can't seem to—"

Suddenly, Severus shook out his robes, holding them by the shoulders. Starting at the collar he began sniffing it, moving over the fabric and going lower. He suddenly stopped and inhaled loudly, then pulled back, looking at where the scent was located on the robes.

Hermione's entire head turned red as he looked at her.

"I know what that is now. What is it? What excited you?" he asked, dropping the robes on the floor and catching her by her arms. "Was it me? Were you thinking about me, Hermione?"

Hermione began to tremble. Snape felt it and made his hold firmer.

"Don't tremble. Just tell me, were you thinking about me last night when you did it?"

Hermione met his dark eyes. His big nose was flared and he was actually biting his lower lip in anticipation of her answer.

"Just tell him," a little voice said in her head.

"Yes. I was thinking about you," she said softly. "I didn't mean to do it—but—"

"But you did it, and that's what happened. What were you thinking about exactly?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"I know what it was, Hermione. It could only be one thing. You're ready for a lover," he said softly. "And I'm ready to be one."

Snape kissed her then. His lips were hungry against hers although he didn't pull her into his body.

"A real kiss," Hermione," he said against her mouth. "I want to know what you taste like. Show me."

Hermione had French kissed Ron before, but it was nothing like invading Snape's soft mouth. He didn't—tongue wrestle. His tongue moved slowly, caressed and entwined with her own easily. How did he know how to do that?

It was just Snape's nature not to rush or be greedy because something important could be missed. His love of brewing taught him patience. It was paying off now.

He couldn't describe the taste of Hermione, but it was the most compelling flavor he'd ever experienced. Her mouth was warm, wet, sweet, alive and he wanted to lap at it forever. He did pull her into him now, his erection full blown and resting against her belly as he continued kissing her.

For Hermione it was as if she'd consumed some kind of drug. Everything around her was losing reality and all she was, was a core of feeling. His mouth, his closeness, his maleness pressing into her. Snape's hands moved over her shoulders, and down her back, stopping at the small of it and returning to sink into her bushy hair.

"Don't go back to class, Hermione," he said softly, pulling back from her mouth. "Stay here with me. Please."

Hermione stared at him, then groaned as he lifted her hair and kissed her throat, slumping against him.

"You want to," he whispered in her ear. "And I so want you to stay, Hermione. I want to be inside you. Let me inside you. Show me what it's like."

"Oh dear gods," Hermione gasped as his mouth fell back to her throat. Ron never made her feel like this, never talked to her like this. Snape kissed his way up the side of her face, then fell back to her lips, holding her closer, his body beginning to rub against hers helplessly. He felt as if his boxers had grown two sizes too small.

"Let me take you to my bedroom. I promise, I won't rush this . . . say you'll stay with me, Hermione. Tell me we can do this," Snape breathed at her, his face contorted by desire.

Hermione was nothing but tingle from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Some parts of her tingled more than others. But—but skip classes? Someone was bound to notice. She never skipped class, and that could lead to an instant investigation, no doubt straight to Snape's private quarters because it was well known that she frequented it. She'd hate to be discovered in a compromising position.

And judging by how she felt right now, it surely would be compromising.

"I—I can't skip class, Severus," she said, pulling away from him. It felt as if it were the hardest thing to do in the world.

"Hermione," he said, her very name sounding like a plea.

"I can't," she said again, weakly. "It would be noticed, Severus. People would come here looking for me."

"We won't let them in."

"No. I can't. I have to go to class. The NEWTS, remember?"

Snape blinked at her. Yes, the NEWTS. That was enough to throw cold water on her. But he could still smell her desire and it nearly drove him mad. It was a good thing he was used to be denied what he wanted, or he could be lashing out at her right now.

"All right. But you will come this evening, won't you? To—study?"

Hermione slowly nodded her head, backing away from him. She knew if she did come tonight, they would be doing much more than studying together. This situation was just too heated to die down on its own. The desire and curiosity was too much. Even if it were only one time—

"I'm going to go, Severus," she told him, still backing away. Severus was on point and looked as if he wanted to grab her and draw her back, but he held his ground, swallowing several times as she moved further and further away. She felt for the torch, not taking her eyes off him, then pulled it, opening the wall.

There was no way Snape was about to do it when he didn't want her to go. But he was already in danger of breaking his own rule of not interfering with her studies, and he hadn't even done more than kiss her yet. He had tried to keep her from her classes. He should have known that wouldn't have worked. If it had worked, she might have resented him afterwards, so maybe it was good she left.

Snape looked down at his tented robes, knowing it would have been immeasurably better if she had stayed. Well, he wasn't going to wank off this time. If he wanted this to go right, he had to do some preparation to make her feel more comfortable when she returned.

He didn't want to muck this up. Hermione had said she'd be back, but she didn't say she'd have sex with him.

It would be up to him to convince her.

* * *

Hermione exited her last class of the day, Muggle Studies and walked out into the entrance hall. She had gotten cold feet and decided to study in her room this evening. She hadn't counted on Severus coming to meet her.

"Going somewhere?" he said softly, materializing out of the crowd of passing students and catching her arm.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Severus. Where were you going?"

"Er—"

"My quarters are this way," he told her, drawing her back down the stairs and directing her to the dungeons.

"My, Snape sure is pushy about Hermione studying, isn't he?" Ginny said to Neville as they walked down the stairs, watching the two go down the narrow dungeon stairwell.

"He seems to be as bad as she is," Neville agreed, then they continued on, unaware of just what it was Hermione was walking into.

* * *

Snape opened the wall that led to his study.

"Go in," he said to Hermione, pushing at the small of her back as she stalled.

Hermione walked through and gasped. There were candles and an unconscionable amount of flowers everywhere. On the mantle, desks, tables, hanging from the shelving, even from the ceiling. It was like an indoor garden.

"What is all of this?" she asked him, walking over to a bunch of small trailing purple blooms and sniffing them. It looked as if he'd raided every flowering plant professor Sprout had in the Herbology center. Well, not every one. There weren't any roses.

"Well, it's my attempt at—er being romantic. Lovers are supposed to be romantic. More romantic than a regular person, uh, boyfriend," he said a bit nervously, looking around at everything then back at Hermione. "It is romantic—isn't it?"

Hermione looked at him and smiled.

"Yes, it is rather romantic, Severus. You obviously went through a lot of trouble to set this up," she said softly.

"And—and I have food," he told her, waving his hand toward the table which was graced by two plates on which rested two very greasy bags of fish and chips. There was milk and pumpkin juice as well.

Hermione laughed.

"What? I went all the way to London to get those. They're quite good," Snape said a bit snarkily.

"Oh, I don't doubt they are, Severus. It's just usually, a meal is much fancier. Prawns or something like that. And wine."

"Oh. I just thought it would go better if I served something we both liked. Everyone likes fish and chips. And to be honest, I didn't know if you did fancy. You don't seem as if you would, you're so—down to earth."

Snape looked a little put out that he not seen this side to Hermione. He much preferred down to earth.

"Actually, I don't do fancy, Severus. Too time consuming, not to mention expensive. And I love fish and chips," she said, putting her knapsack on the floor and walking up to the table. Snape hurried over and pulled out her chair, and she sat down as he carefully pushed it in. Then he walked around the table and sat down himself, looking at her as she ripped open her bag and dumped the contents on her plate.

"At least there's utensils," she said to Snape, picking up a fork.

"One has to have the proper tools," he responded softly as he dumped out his own food. She seemed to like what he'd done.

He'd find out how much after supper.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. ***


	41. Meaningful Meals

**Chapter 40 ~ Meaningful Meals**

At first, they ate in relative silence, both of them rather nervously focusing on their fish and chips, speaking only to pass the ketchup or vinegar. Finally, Hermione found her voice.

"Um—I never did thank you for stopping Blaise from hexing me with the Sectumsempra spell," she said to Snape softly.

"Well, you certainly couldn't block it, cringing like you were," he replied.

Hermione frowned.

"Of course I was cringing. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself naked in front of a bunch of people?" she asked him.

Snape looked at her soberly.

"If I had a wand? I would have hexed the person who did it to me," he replied. "That happened to me, you know. Down by the lake, but my wand was taken first so I couldn't protect or defend myself. If I'd had it—"

He stopped talking.

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry Severus. I'd forgotten about that. About James Potter. You do know what its like," she said softly.

He nodded slightly, then ate a chip.

"Yes, which is why I covered you so quickly," he admitted. "But at least you still had your wand. You just didn't use it."

"I was embarrassed."

"That's exactly what Blaise was counting on," Snape replied. "That you would be frozen in shock."

"You knew I would be—you acted so quickly."

"Yes."

"Then you hit him, knowing it would cost you points."

"Yes. I was livid that he did that to you. Bared you that way in front of everyone then tried to cut you. It was a good spell in retrospect, but—I didn't care about that. I only cared that he tried to hurt you seriously. That spell can be deadly if it cuts the wrong area. Fabric can protect you somewhat, but naked—"

"Thank you," Hermione said, cutting him off. She knew how horrible it could have been. He didn't need to say it.

They fell silent again for a few seconds, then Snape said, "You're a good duelist. You know powerful spells and don't hesitate to use them."

"Well, when you've been in a war, it can be that way," she replied.

"Not for Harry or even Draco."

Hermione sighed.

"Harry doesn't have the killer instinct, neither does Draco."

"And you do?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'd kill someone if I had to, yes. I'd prefer not to do it, but if my wand was forced, so be it. There was a time, before the war, that I never thought I'd ever be willing to take someone's life. But—that's different now. Sometimes that's the only way to settle things."

"Do you think it would fragment your soul?" Snape asked her.

"I don't know. It would depend or whether I saw it as murder or not," she replied honestly. "Why do you ask?"

"I asked because I wonder if my soul was fragmented when I killed Dumbledore. If—if it's fragmented now," he said softly.

"I don't think so, Severus. It may have been fragmented when you were an adult. A sign of a fragmented soul is a lack of humanity. Parts of you are—broken, unable to feel or express anything good or caring. As an adult, you were very cold, unsociable and kind of cruel. But now, it's easy to see that you care," she said to him. "I don't believe anything about you is fragmented except your idea that you can beat me in a duel."

"What?"

Severus finished his last chip, then scowled at her.

"Really. I mean, I know you've made up spells, but we know about those, and I've been in battle before, with Death Eaters and survived. You can't say that—now."

"You think all my spells have been catalogued, Hermione? You can't possibly think that. I stopped writing them down in my fifth year when James used the Levicorpus spell on me. My potions book had been stolen, then mysteriously returned. I never wrote another spell or potion in it again. But I didn't stop creating them."

Here his face took on a dangerous demeanor.

"Most of my spells are Dark Magic," he told her. "Blaise is nothing, nothing compared to me. The Marauders were lucky, very lucky I didn't unleash them on them. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban for murder. I wanted them dead, but not to have to pay for it. So they lived until destiny gave them all what they deserved. I only wish I could remember each and every one of their demises."

Hatred glittered within his dark eyes and Hermione realized that although he seemed well-adjusted enough, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were still in his memory as if they'd only walked the earth weeks ago.

She finished her food.

"Don't think about them, Severus. They're all gone now. Everything is gone from your past. There's only the future to look toward. It's all going to be so much better for you. You have people who care about you now. People who want the best for you—"

Snape's dark eyes gave her a penetrating look.

"People, or you, Hermione?" he asked her softly.

She blushed slightly.

"Yes, me. Harry, too," she told him. "And I'm sure the Headmistress and others want to see you happy as well."

"I'm only concerned with you. The devil can take the others," he said vehemently. "You were the one who showed me the truth. They wouldn't even tell me what had happened to me. Sure, Harry let the dragon out of the cave, but it was you who took me where I needed to go, and stood by me as my world came crashing down, and—and helped me focus on some things—"

Snape paused, his eyes shifting to the wall that had covered the room full of Pensieves.

"And kept me from focusing on other things," he continued. "No one else knew what to do, what to say. And you didn't show me pity. When I acted an arse you had no problem telling me so, and you didn't abandon me when I was wallowing in it. You pulled me out of it."

"I didn't do so much, Severus."

"You've done a lot for me. If not for you, I'd be here all alone, Hermione. I'm so—I was so used to being alone—with nothing but Tom's promises—"

Snape stopped talking, his voice breaking and he looked down at the table miserably.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes wet, then she rose and walked around the table, placing her hand on his pale one. Snape looked up at her.

"You're not alone now, Severus," she said softly. "I'm your friend."

Their eyes met, and Snape slowly rose from his chair, grasping her hand in his.

"I want to be more than your friend, Hermione. I want to be—to be special to you. I don't think I've ever been special to anyone."

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"You are to me. You always have been, no matter what your age," she replied, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into their sweetest kiss yet, initiating first contact.

No studying would be done tonight although a bit of learning was definitely in order.

* * *

Ron hurried into the kitchens, the House Elves greeting him warmly as he hurried over to the counter. Susan was there, her apron already streaked with flour and other ingredients. She wore a dress and little chef's hat on her head. She smiled.

"Right on time," she said, smiling at him.

"Of course," Ron said, sniffing the delicious scents in the air. Was that chicken? "My stomach awaits,"

"It's going to have to wait a bit longer. Sit down on the stool and make yourself comfortable."

Ron did as she asked, then noticed a tray covered with foil resting on the countertop.

"What's this?" he asked her as she was about to slip a pan into one of several ovens.

"Oh, that's Oysters Rockefeller," she said, her back to him.

"Really, never had them," Ron said, lifting the foil curiously. He looked at the oysters. They were topped with spinach, cheese, breadcrumb and butter, then broiled to a golden brown. He picked one up and brought it to his mouth just as Susan turned around, her brown eyes wide.

"Ron! No!" she cried, running forward. But it was too late. He'd slurped it down and was chewing blissfully.

"Wow! That's great, Susan," he said to the witch, who was shaking her head.

"Oh, Ron. You shouldn't have eaten that. You shouldn't eat anything I don't specifically tell you to eat," Susan told him, recovering the pan of oysters and looking at him worriedly.

"Why? They taste great. In fact, I'd like another one," Ron said to her with a smile. Susan looked at him closely. His pupils were starting to dilate.

"Oh—Ron," she said despairingly. Those oysters were baked with magic. They've never been tested on a human before. Only nifflers."

"They aren't poisonous are they?" Ron asked her, a bit alarmed.

Susan reddened.

"They aren't poisonous, but the effects can be extremely painful if—if—there's no pain potion for it or anything—"

"What? Painful? What the hell did I eat? What do they do?" Ron demanded, hopping off the stool now.

"They're, they're aphrodisiacs, Ron. They make you want to shag," she said in a small voice. "And from what I've seen from the nifflers, a male goes into great pain if a female isn't provided. I've always had to put a female in the cage with them, because the alternative was too awful. And I only gave them a pinch. You ate a whole oyster."

Suddenly, Ron ran a finger around his collar.

"Gods, I'm getting hot, Susan," he said to her.

"Merlin, let me get you some water," she said, running to the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it up. She ran back to Ron, who drank it down thirstily. He put the glass down and looked at her.

"Susan," he rasped as he began to get an erection. She looked down.

"Oh Ron . . . Ron, I'm so sorry," she said to him.

"Ow—it's so hard—" he gasped, bending over. "Shit!"

Susan wrung her hands, not knowing what to do as the House Elves gathered around them, chittering worriedly.

"Is not good, Miss. He suffers very much. Will gets worse," an elf said to Susan. "You musts helps him."

"Arrrgh! Susan—oh, I've got to open my trousers," Ron gasped fumbling with his fly.

"Oh, damn it! Come on, Ron. Into the cupboard," she said, grabbing an oyster and slurping it down. She hurried into the cupboard, Ron stumbling after her as he struggled to free himself.

Forty-five minutes and a lot of panting, grunting and shrieking later, a disheveled Susan emerged from the cupboard, straightening her chef's hat, followed by a smiling, smitten Ronald Weasley. The House Elves had discreetly withdrawn and warded the kitchen doors once they heard the in-outie going on. It was a private time.

"Wow! That was—you were—I was—shagging was NEVER that good before. Never."

Susan was completely red as she walked to the sink and washed her face and hands. Ron followed her, and when she turned, he kissed her.

"You're fantastic, Susan. Your body, your—your breasts, your bum—you're amazing."

"Ron, it was the oysters, believe me," she told him, still blushing as she self-consciously straightened her dress.

"No, it wore off twenty minutes in, Susan, but I didn't. You're beautiful, sexy. You have the best pu—"

"Ron, stop it," she said. "I only shagged you because of what would have happened to you if I didn't. We aren't an item."

"I want to be. I want to be, Susan," Ron said to her desperately. "I won't be able to sleep at night knowing you're here and I can't get to you."

"Ron, you're just in the glow stages. When it passes, you'll see I'm right about this," she told him softly.

"No, you aren't. I know you aren't. Wow. Go out with me."

"Ron!"

"We've already shagged, Susan and I don't have a girlfriend—"

"You just broke up with Hermione. I can't do that," Susan said to him.

"I saw Snape kiss Hermione. She's over me completely, believe me," he told her taking both her hands.

"You saw that?"

"Yes, just yesterday while we were reviewing charms. Snape kissed her right in front of me and she didn't mind it at all. So, we're really broken up, Susan. There's no chance we'll get back together."

"But Ron, you don't even know if you really like me. Besides, if I did say yes, it wouldn't mean we'd be shagging like bunnies all the time. Despite what we did, we have to get to know each other—"

"So, we'll get to know each other, then. I'm not leaving here until you say yes, Susan. I mean it."

Ron sat down stubbornly on the stool.

"Merlin, what did I get myself into," Susan thought, looking at the smitten redhead.

It would certainly cause a stir to go out with him though. He was one of the Golden Trio, and she was the unassuming friendly fat girl. She hadn't been a virgin and had dalliances with wizards before, those quick dalliances that meant nothing to the guys at all except a quick shag. She'd never had a real boyfriend. There were some hopeful starts, but the wizards all succumbed to peer pressure because she was a big girl.

"Ron, if you go out with me, you're going to get teased," she told him honestly.

Ron frowned.

"Teased? About what?"

"In case you didn't notice, I'm fat."

"Fat? You're not fat, you're healthy. My mum's healthy and my dad loves her to death," Ron argued. "There's nothing wrong with a woman with some meat on her. I think you're beautiful. Everything about you. I've been with two other witches and never felt as turned on as I did with you. Both of them were skinny. Kind of."

"It was the oysters."

"I can prove it wasn't if you want to go back into the cupboard with me," Ron said.

Susan blushed.

"No, that's not necessary, Ron. I'll tell you what. Think about what you've asked me over the next few days, say, for a week. If you still feel the same way, maybe we can go out. But until then, no tasting my food. I want to be separated, so you aren't constantly around me. And maybe you should ask a friend or two what they'd think if you went out with me."

"They'd be fine with it, Susan."

"Just see," she said softly. "Now, will you go? Please?"

"All right. But a week's not going to make any difference," Ron said confidently. Then he hopped off the stool, grabbed her and snogged her royally.

"You're fantastic. I think I'm in love," he told her.

She shook her head.

"You're not in love, you're in lust. And it's going to wear off."

"I doubt it," he said. "I'll see you in a week."

He left the kitchen, whistling happily as he walked up the corridor. Susan nearly collapsed against the counter.

"His nads might not be the size of his Animagus forms, but he's good enough. Whew!" she breathed, fanning herself. Then she smiled naughtily.

That had been rather good.

* * *

A/N: Don't kill me y'all. It was either bisect the story here or leave another evil Severus and Hermione cliffie. This way I can dedicate the entire next chapter to them and give everyone some satisfaction. Plus, I solved the "lonely Ron" problem nicely. Actually, it was a lot of fun. Lolol. Big UPS to the big girls! Thanks for reading.


	42. What a Girl Wants

**Chapter 41 ~ What a Girl Wants**

Snape and Hermione were trembling against each other as they came up for air, Snape's dark eyes resting on her face.

"I'm—I'm probably not going to last too long with you, Hermione," he said softly. "I can tell from the way I feel right now—but don't worry. I know what to do, well—I have some idea, some instruction. But I won't do everything I was told . . ."

Hermione frowned slightly at him, her belly churning with desire.

"Instruction? Who instructed you?"

"Tom Riddle. He gave me—pointers. But, I'm not going to treat you like a whore."

Hermione blinked at him.

"A whore? Tom Riddle said to treat women like whores?" Hermione said, her ardor cooling.

"Yes," Snape said softly, heat in his eyes. "But, I won't, Hermione. I promise you. He told me other things to do, things that make women feel good. He said it was important that I make a woman feel good before I do anything else, even shag her. I plan to do that, so if I don't last, at least you will still feel good."

Hermione stared at him, wondering what he intended to do.

"Can you tell me?" she asked him.

"I'd rather show you," Snape said, lowering his lips to hers once more and starting to back her through his quarters, toward his bedroom. Suddenly, Hermione broke the kiss.

"What exactly does treating a woman like a whore mean?" she asked him.

Snape looked a little frustrated as she stalled.

"Voldemort said a wizard should treat a witch like a queen outside of the bedroom, and like a whore in it."

"Why? That doesn't seem conducive to a good relationship. Why would any woman want to be treated like a whore?"

Snape shrugged. "Some witches like it. Especially the ones who have control issues," he told her, his head cocking slightly. Hermione certainly did have that.

Hmmm.

She knew it too. It was creepy that she was asking questions about sexual instructions given by Voldemort, but she had to admit, the wizard knew how to get things done in other areas until Harry killed him. Maybe he was on to something concerning sex, too.

"Really? How does a wizard treat a witch like—like a whore?" she asked him.

"Can we talk about this a little later, say, after we shag?" Snape asked her with a slight whine in his voice.

"I want to know," Hermione said.

Snape expelled an aggravated breath, his brows drawn together.

"Fine. I'll tell you what it is the way I understand it. It's when you shag a witch like you own her. You dominate her, you tell her what to do to you and how to do it. You make her cry out, scream. You twist her body into pretzels, pull her hair, pinch her, spank her, be rough, talk dirty, make demands and generally treat her like she was only created for your own sexual pleasure," he said to Hermione darkly. "You aren't completely mean, however, there is some tenderness, but not overly so. That's how you treat a woman like a whore."

Hermione knew the minute Severus started talking that there was something definitely wrong with her. There had to be. What he described was absolutely terrible, but it turned her on so much. Dear gods, did she have whore-like tendencies deep down inside?

Maybe that's what was missing with Ron. He didn't take control enough. Maybe she needed a tougher, more selfish wizard.

"Ah, ok," she said a bit hoarsely as Snape studied the new flush that crept up her face.

"That turned you on," he said softly.

"What? No—"

"You can't lie to me. I can smell you, and your body went all hot," the wizard said, his eyes narrowing. "Would you like me to be that way, Hermione?"

"How can you ask me something like that?" she countered, not wanting to say yes and show him that she was damaged.

"I'm asking you because lovers give their partners not only what they want, but what they need. Is that what you need Hermione, because—because gods, I'd love to be that for you. You're so strong and willful—I'd like to just—just—"

Snape realized he was talking too much now, and quickly stopped as Hermione looked up at him, one eyebrow arched.

"You'd just like to what?" she asked him.

Snape looked hesitant and unsure for a moment, then took a breath and told her. Now wasn't the time to hedge, not when they were so close.

"Have you give in to me," he said softly, "to see you let go of everything that fills that brilliant head and let me take the reins. I'd make you forget about studying, NEWTS, schedules, tutoring and everything. I'd help you—breathe again."

He hesitated again.

"Once I get my bearings—that is," he added, not wanting to give a big buildup and fizzle out on her in the end. "I'd have to get in a bit of practice first."

He looked a bit put out by the admission that he wasn't sure if he could do it right now. But, he wanted to be honest with her and not lead her on. He swallowed.

Hermione smiled at him softly. He was—dare she think it—adorable in a weird, almost scary kind of way. It was his intensity that made him a little scary. It was as if you knew everything he said, he meant.

Hermione draped her arms around his neck.

"Practice, eh? Now, where were we?" she asked him softly.

Snape looked heartened. She understood.

"Here," he said, locking his lips to hers and once again backing her up toward his bedroom.

They slowly made their way through the quarters, Snape directing her around all the flowers and away from the candles. It wouldn't do for her robes to ignite. Finally they made it through the door.

In his bedroom, Snape had recreated the ceiling in the Great Hall. Stars twinkled brightly above them, and candles floated, giving a warm flickering light. He had a huge four-poster bed, and had draped hanging flowers around it so they fell like curtains. A potion rested on his nightstand. There was only a dresser, a wardrobe and a wooden chair for furnishing. It was very sparse, but they didn't need anything else.

Hermione broke the kiss and looked up at the ceiling.

"Oh, that's beautiful, Severus. It's like we're under the stars," she said, looking at him.

"I—I wanted it nice for you. I know I'm not your first, Hermione. I might not be—"

"Ssh," she said softly. "Right now, you're my only, Severus. That's what matters, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied thickly, kissing her again.

They stood there in the room, kissing each other, the stars twinkling down and the scent of flowers surrounding them. Severus caressed her shoulders, sides and back reverently, feeling her delicate musculature, the scent of her overpowering the flowers. He pressed against her, feeling her breasts mash against his chest and his erection press against her belly. She held him tighter as their tongues entwined and breathing became heavier.

Finally Snape broke the kiss, looking down at her, nervous as all get out but wanting to access her. He didn't know what to say and it was daunting. He never had a problem saying what he wanted before, when he knew he wouldn't get it then. But now—

Hermione looked up at him, feeling his nervousness and wanting to ease his worries. She'd done this before, he hadn't.

"Tell me what to do, Severus," she said softly, releasing him.

Snape blinked at her.

"What?" he said hoarsely.

"Tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it," she said, feeling very powerful as he stared at her, unable to believe his ears.

"You'll—you'll do what I ask you?" he repeated.

She nodded.

Snape backed up from her, his eyes shifting over her almost desperately, as if he didn't know where to start. Then he plopped down on the side of the bed, staring at her.

"You'll do anything? Anything I ask?" he asked her to make sure.

Hermione felt the most delicious knot in her belly as she answered in the affirmative, and Snape swallowed again, his Adam's apple rising and falling.

"All right. Take off your robes," he said to her.

Hermione slowly began to unbutton her robes, Snape's eyes on her hands, then flicking up to her face, before sliding down her body. He was tense, a little tick in his jaw as she parted her robes and revealed her student uniform of a white blouse, scarlet and gold plaid skirt that fell just above her knees, white ankle socks and trainers.

"I thought you wore jeans under your robes," Snape said thickly, looking at her bare legs.

"Sometimes," she said, folding up her robes and putting them on the chair. She stood in front of him expecting him to ask her to take off her blouse.

"Take off—your knickers," Snape said, licking his lips.

Hermione turned a little red. Her knickers? He was going for the knickers first? Merlin.

Snape would have gone for the blouse if she were wearing jeans. But, since she was in a skirt—

Snape watched, feeling his cock swelling as Hermione lifted her skirt and pulled down her knickers. He got a glimpse of the curly brown hair between her thighs as she bent and stepped out of them. She started to put them on the chair with her robes.

"No, give them to me," Snape said softly, extending his hand.

Her cheeks red, Hermione handed Snape her damp knickers and watched as he buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply, his eyes going hot as he scented her. He pulled them away from his nose but still held them close to his face.

"Walk around the room," he ordered, his face slightly contorted now.

Hermione did so, feeling very vulnerable as he watched her, his dark eyes on her skirt as he imagined her naked beneath the fabric. He made a noise as his cock pulsed, jerking in his trousers. Hermione walked to the far wall, turned and walked back to the bedroom door then turned again walking back and standing in front of him again.

"Lift your skirt," he breathed.

Hermione's eyes cut to the right and she looked up at the stars as she lifted her skirt, showing him her goods. Snape's eyes locked to her pussy, his nostrils flaring.

"Will you—will you touch it?" he asked her softly. "Touch the hair. Comb your fingers through it. It looks—so soft."

Oh dear Merlin. Being with Ron was never like this. It was as if she were on display, and she felt so naughty and so turned on by him just looking at her, watching her and asking her to do things. She looked at him, then slowly brought her brought her hand to her apex and let her fingers slip through her soft pubic hair.

"Yesssss," Snape breathed, watching the wispy brown hair curl around her fingers. "Oh yes, now—now turn around and bend over—lift your skirt. Show me your arse. Spread your legs a little—oh—oh Hermione. Just like that—"

As Hermione did what he asked she felt wetness on her inner thighs. It was as if she were playing a kinky game of "Severus Says." This was so naughty. She didn't think she could have ever done this with Ron. But with Severus—

"Look over your shoulder at me," Snape hissed as he looked at her round bum and the furry vulva peeking out at him from between the cleft. Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, pushing her bushy brown hair out of the way, her face still rather red.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "My gods, your arse is so round, I just want to—slap your cheek, Hermione. I want to see your arse jiggle."

Jiggle? Merlin. She slapped her cheek and Snape's mouth dropped open as her bum jiggled like Jell-O. Oh, he liked that.

He swallowed before he gave the next order.

"I want you to slide your fingers between the lips of your pussy," he said in a tight voice, desire giving him the strength to say what he needed to say now. No more hedging words. "I can smell how wet you are, hot and wet, it's like—humidity pouring off you. I want your fingers to get wet—very wet."

Hermione closed her eyes and slowly slid her fingers through her wet folds, feeling herself getting wetter under Severus' gaze. She liked doing this for him, and for herself. Her brown eyes fluttered at the pleasurable sensation and Snape saw this, tensing.

"Come here. Don't wipe your fingers," he growled.

Hermione straightened, turned and slowly walked to him, his eyes resting on her glistening fingers. She stopped in front of him and he opened his mouth, looking up at her, his eyes glittering.

She slipped them in, his lips closing softly on her hand as he suckled her fingers, his eyes going half-lidded, then closing in pleasure. His lashes were so long against his pale cheeks.

"Oh, dear Circe," Hermione breathed, looking down at him.

* * *

A/N: Ack! Another cliffie, but I needed a break. Sorry about yesterday. Real life issues took over, then I had a slow start this morning because I had no cherry cigarillos again. I used my extras money to cover a bill my children were supposed to pay, so I'm not well stocked on my usual writing aids. Cigarillos are important to my writing, a big part of the process Anyway, I want to give a big shoutout to my girl J*, who sent me a little change to get some. You can thank her for this scenario which came to me as I drove to the convenience store to pick them up. I get my best ideas in the car. More to come and thanks for reading.


	43. A Slow Hand

**Chapter 42 ~ A Slow Hand**

Slowly, Hermione pulled her fingers from Snape's warm mouth, the wizard sucking on them softly until they were fully removed, then his dark eyes opening and resting on her face, his lips slightly moist and his expression almost intoxicated.

"You're delicious. Kiss me, let me show you," he breathed at her.

Hermione hesitated.

"You said you'd do anything. Kiss me," Snape said again, his eyes glittering.

"That's so—kinky," she said to him. "You want me to taste my own—my own—lubrication, Severus."

Oh, he was so—dirty. And it was doing things to her body that was maddening.

I want to know how your body feels, sounds, looks, smells and tastes, Hermione. I want to learn you and share that knowledge with you as well as that pleasure. This is just the beginning. Kiss me," he said softly. "Don't be afraid. It's all part of it. Part of you—like I'm going to be part of you."

Hermione hesitated, then leaned down, pressing her lips against his, feeling his tongue slowly snake into her mouth, the musky taste of her juices passing between them. It was so intimate, so primal—so good. They parted, lips glistening. Hermione's heated eyes met his.

"That was—I don't know what that was, Severus," she exhaled as she straightened.

"It was good," he replied. "Open your blouse, Hermione. Slowly—"

Hermione began to back up and unbutton her blouse when Snape caught her elbow.

"No, stay here, close to me," he told her, his eyes once again on her fingers.

Hermione moved back toward him and he spread his legs a bit so she stood between them. He looked down at her skirt, thinking of the naked flesh beneath it, but he didn't touch her. Instead, he brought her knickers to his nose again, inhaling her aroma. His cock was so hard it was pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Hermione pulled her blouse open, revealing her bra-encased breasts.

"Lean forward," he hissed at her.

Hermione did as he asked, her nipples so tight they tingled, nearly ached. Snape pressed his nose between her cleavage, breathed in and let out a ragged sigh as he inhaled her scent and felt her soft flesh surround his face. Suddenly, he licked between her breasts, and Hermione jerked reflexively at the sensation of his tongue moving over her skin. Snape withdrew, and Hermione fought the urge to catch him by the back of his head and pull him back.

"Your skin is delicious too," he said softly, looking up at her.

"Your—your tongue felt good, Severus. I—I want you to—"

"Who is giving the orders here?" Snape suddenly said. "You or me? You said I was."

Hermione blinked at him. Orders? She didn't exactly say he could give her orders—she said he could tell her what to—

Oh.

That was taking orders, wasn't it? Suddenly, the temperature in the room seemed to rise a few degrees as Hermione realized that Snape wanted full control of this, of her.

"You are," she said softly.

Snape studied her, frowning slightly.

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry."

Snape swallowed again as Hermione complied with his wishes. Gods, he hoped he could get through this. He was so turned on and he hadn't even touched her intimately yet. But he could scent her desire strongly. He stood up, Hermione having to back away a bit to give him room.

"Turn around," he said softly.

Hermione did so, and felt his arms encircle her waist as he pulled her back against his body, his erection pressing into her arse. He was still in his robes and clothing. She felt him gently move her hair aside then start kissing her throat, his pale hands caressing her belly and sides beneath her blouse reverently She sighed as his soft mouth and firm hands moved over her skin. She could feel little calluses on his fingertips from burns and other subtle injuries related to potions.

Snape's hands slid down, circumventing her core and rubbing the front of her thighs through the fabric of her skirt. Hermione turned her head more, so he could reach her lips, beginning to rub her bum against him wantonly, wanting him to touch her more. He was sliding around all the good parts. The tips of her breasts were so tight, they hurt, and her pussy felt as if it were clapping together. Feeling his hardness against her arse and his supple tongue in her mouth was driving her mad.

All right. He was a virgin and wanted to take this slow, but Hermione couldn't help but feel the word torturer was quite interchangeable with virgin at this moment.

But Snape was lost to the witch in his arms, sliding against him, the warmth of her skin under his palms, the softness of her buttocks rubbing against his hardness. He could feel wetness in his boxers. He was—leaking.

Suddenly, Hermione grasped his hands and guided them to her covered breasts, both of them. Snape stopped kissing her and looked over her shoulder as his hands were filled with her fullness. He squeezed and she let out an absolutely beautiful moan of pleasure.

"Oh, Severus," she sighed.

He squeezed a bit harder, pressing his cock against her arse with more ardor, grinding into the witch, his breathing harsh.

"More—oh, Severus—touch me—my skin," Hermione groaned, her eyes half-lidded, feeling as if her body was on fire. "Touch me all over."

"I will," he breathed, slipping his hands under her bra, forcing it upward, then grasping her breasts with a growl. He could feel the hard peaks of her nipples and caught them gently between his thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them gently. She buckled against him.

"You aren't thinking about the NEWTS now, are you, Hermione?" he whispered into her ear as one hand slid under the elastic of her skirt.

Hermione let out a squeak as Snape's fingers combed through her pubic hair lightly.

"It is soft," he breathed. "So soft, Hermione."

"Gods—"

"Yessss," Snape breathed, letting his fingers slip lower and between her folds. It was soft, hot and wet down there. His breath hitched as he moved his fingers back and forth as gently as possible, not wanting to cause her any injury. Hermione began to moan sexily, winding her buttocks against him. Ron had never done anything like this. There was caressing, kissing, but not this kind of foreplay. No one had ever put their fingers down there, except her. And it felt incredible—just incredible.

But Snape was simply exploring, trying to get the feel of her body and her responses while giving her pleasure. Tom had said women liked to have their twats twiddled and as far as Snape could tell, the despot had been correct. Hermione was panting, moaning and groaning as if the center of her entire universe was at his fingertips.

Right now, it was as Hermione felt herself drawing in, a sweetness growing, tightening, a knot forming in her lower belly. Snape felt her temperature rise and detected a change in her scent, more compelling than ever as she began to actually whimper. He held on, kissing her throat, caressing her body with one hand, and teasing her core with the other, still gentle, but determined. He felt her start to quiver and pressed into her harder.

Everything had taken on a dream-like quality for both witch and wizard as they moved against each other, perspiring now, Hermione gasping as the build-up continued, Snape's breaths stuttered as he manipulated her body. Dear gods, she was something else—so—so passionate under his touch.

Suddenly, Hermione shrieked and came, hot, thick wetness poured over Snape's fingers and into his palm. The wizard reflexively tightened his hold on the climaxing witch, hissing as she shuddered against him, his cheek pressed against hers.

Hermione felt as if she'd blasted through the illuminated ceiling above her when the orgasm hit her, an explosion of bliss followed by waves of quaking, shuddering pleasure.

So, this was what it was about—this was the mystery she couldn't crack with Ron. She slumped against Snape, whose eyes were full of wonder. He carefully pulled the elastic of her skirt away from her body and removed his wet, come-covered hand. He started to bring it to his mouth, wanting to taste Hermione's nectar again.

"Wait," Hermione said softly.

He paused, a little surprised. She had seemed so out of it.

"Me first," she said softly, guiding his fingers to her mouth and suckling them gently, Snape letting out a hiss as her warmth closed over his digits.

"You're a wonder," he breathed when she released his fingers. "I would have never imagined—"

Hermione turned in his arms.

"Before you, I wouldn't have either," she breathed, kissing him and sharing her essence. Snape gathered her as close as possible, drinking in her kiss and her willingness to explore with him. This was going much better than he ever thought it would. But, there was still much more to do. They broke the kiss, and Snape drew her blouse down her arms. He removed it, then her bra, pulling it over her head. She now stood only in her skirt, socks and trainers, Snape's eyes resting on her breasts. He licked his lips, looked into her heated brown eyes, then sat down on the bed and pulled her closer, latching his lips on one hard nipple and sucking gently.

"Ooh," Hermione breathed as his mouth applied the gentle, pleasing suction, soothing the ache. "That feels so good, Severus. Gods, you're good at this—I've never—"

Snape stopped suckling and looked up at her.

"Weasley didn't do this for you?" he asked her.

"Well, this—yes—a little, but the other thing—"

"Tweaking your twat?" Severus asked her helpfully. Hermione blushed bright crimson.

"That—and tasting it," she said softly.

Snape smiled a little. He was glad about that. He wondered what else they'd done or didn't do. He wanted to know.

"Hermione, would you show me you and Ron?" he asked her softly.

"What?"

"Show me what it was like with him," Snape said. "I want to see for myself."

"Severus, I can't let you see another wizard shagging me!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why not?"

Hermione blinked at him.

"Because, because it's wrong, that's why," she said. "You should know that."

"I don't see anything wrong with it. I'm going to shag you too. I just want to see what Weasley did and didn't do. It might help my—my technique. Come on, Hermione. We've just done something very intimate together. Besides, you said you'd do whatever I asked."

"Yes, and I'm starting to regret that," she hissed at him.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Are you really?" he asked her in a low voice, his eyes dropping to her skirt. Hermione looked at him and realized she was absolutely lying.

"No, not really. All right. You can see, but it's not very exciting," Hermione said.

Snape stood up, quickly pulled out his wand, pointed it at her and murmured, "Legilimens."

Hermione winced slightly as Snape watched the rather fumbling encounter. He withdrew and looked at her with a slight frown.

"You didn't have anything like the reaction you had with me, Hermione, and we haven't even had sex yet," he said. "That couldn't have been good, could it? I mean, he didn't take much time with you—didn't turn you on properly. I could see you—you were willing, but it wasn't as hot as what we just did."

"No, it wasn't," Hermione replied, not feeling as put out as she thought she would. Snape was making observations. "But, I cared about him, Severus, and I did want to do it."

"You care about me, too, don't you?" Snape asked her quietly.

"Yes."

Snape stared at her for a moment, then kissed her mouth softly.

"I'm going to be better than he was, Hermione. I'll do things he didn't, and there's so much he didn't do to make you feel good," the wizard said when he broke the kiss.

Hermione stared at him. He had already gone where no wizard had gone before. What else could he do?

Snape stepped aside and gestured toward the bed.

"Take off the rest of your things," he told her as he murmured a charm to open his robes instantly. "And get in the bed. I want to get horizontal."

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and undid her trainers as Snape removed his robes and walked over to his wardrobe and carefully hung them up. As she removed her trainers and socks, she watched him undress, meticulously putting everything away as he did so. He was pale and lean, his back unscarred as he faced away from her. Finally, he was only in his boxers, then he pulled them down and stepped out of them, revealing a very tight, muscular arse. He had a smattering of dark hair on his legs. He stood there a moment, still facing away from her.

Hermione stepped out of her skirt and stood beside the bed naked, looking at the naked wizard, who still hadn't turned around.

"Severus?" she said softly. He looked over his shoulder at her, and his mouth worked a bit as he saw her nudeness. He quickly turned back.

"Get in the bed. I'm coming," he said in a strangled voice.

Hermione realized it was probably nerves that had the wizard standing there the way he was. He was good, but this was still the first time for him. He'd be in bed with a naked witch for the first time in his life. She didn't know how that felt for him.

Snape looked down at his huge erection. It was reddish-pink from the blood flow and stood out comically against the paleness of the rest of his body.

"It looks like a clown dick," he thought, not having any idea Hermione definitely wouldn't think that once she saw it. She'd think it was a big dick, not a clown dick. Definitely nothing to laugh about.

If Snape had his wand, he might have glamoured it to look closer to his skin color. He'd had erections before and they never looked like this. But then again, he couldn't remember ever being harder than this either. He had an actual naked witch in his bed. Fantasizing didn't produce the same kind of hard-ons that reality did. His cock was perfectly normal, considering what it was facing. Normal and ready to go to work.

Hermione slid beneath the Slytherin green sheets, noting they were silk. It seemed the professor had at least one luxury he indulged in. The mattress was very firm and only had a little give. Hermione didn't mind it. She bit her lip as she looked at Severus. She had to get him over here and not embarrass him.

"Severus, I want you to know that—that I never—I never orgasmed before tonight. I didn't with Ron, I mean," she said to him softly. "You're wonderful."

Snape seemed to relax.

"Never?" he asked, still facing away.

"Well, I had little tiny ones when I, you know. But never with a wizard. And you did it just with your fingers. I bet I'll have another when we shag."

Snape half turned.

"You think so?" he asked her, heartened a little.

She nodded.

"Yes, if you ever get in the bed, that is," she replied with a smile. Snape looked at her smiling at him, and turned around fully.

"Holy Hectate, holly and heather!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling the sheets up to her chin as she got a gander at what the wizard was working with. "You've got to be nine inches, Severus! At least that!"

Snape looked down at his erection, then smirked at her reaction. It really had never been this big before.

"I doubt it, Hermione. It just looks big because I'm so slender," he responded, walking toward the bed, his cock bouncing with each step. Hermione's eyes became wider as he came closer.

"You're going to kill me," she said, her eyes flicking up at him.

Snape smiled then. He felt muy macho now. The color didn't bother her at all, but the size—

"I'm not going to kill you," he said softly. "Move over."

Hermione quickly slid aside as Snape lifted the sheets, his nostrils flaring as he looked at her nude body. She had thick thighs and hips. Beautiful.

"You know, I don't really think we need these," he said, ripping the sheets off the bed, Hermione squealing as he did so. He climbed into the bed and sat next to her, looking at her body as Hermione's eyes rested on the monster sticking up and leaning a bit toward her. The tip of it was leaking murky fluid.

"It almost looks too big, Severus," she said, her voice quavering.

Snape realized Hermione was a bit frightened.

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said. "I won't do anything with it unless you tell me you're ready. I promise."

Hermione looked at him with wet eyes.

"Suppose—suppose I don't get 'ready?'" she asked him softly.

Snape gave her a small smile.

"Then I'll just have to be content with what you do let me do," he replied. "And right now, I'd like to kiss and lick you all over. My mouth is absolutely watering. Lie down."

Hermione did as he asked. He'd given the right response. Even this close, he wouldn't press her if she wasn't ready. Still, he could enjoy her body in other ways, ways that would bring her pleasure as well. If he was good enough, maybe she'd forget her nervousness and let him go all the way.

Snape slid down so he was lying beside her, and she turned to face him, moving closer until their bodies touched. His cock rested lightly against her belly, and it was hot, hard but somehow delicate. The soft foreskin shifted against her slightly as their mouths connected.

Gods, his kiss was so sweet.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Even more to come. Heh on the pun. g ***


	44. Easing Toward Paradise

**Chapter 43 ~ Easing Toward Paradise**

Suddenly, Snape broke the kiss, Hermione staring up at him with liquid eyes as he stared down at her.

"There's something we need to do first," he said softly. "Sit up."

Snape sat up in the bed and helped Hermione up, then reached over to the night stand where a bottle of potions sat. He grabbed the bottle and his wand. He uncapped the bottle and drank it down, making a slight face as he did so.

"What's that?" Hermione asked him.

"A contraceptive potion. It renders my sperm useless. Takes away my—fertility," he said, grimacing as he felt his scrotum heat up. "Arrrgh!"

He reflexively clutched at his nads, Hermione's mouth dropping open as he scrunched up his eyes, began panting and his erection wilted a bit. That potion looked painful.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"I—I will be. There's just a bit of heat to kill the sperm cells," he told her in a forced voice. His eyes were wet, and she could tell he was hurting.

"It would have been easier to cast a contraceptive charm on me and use a condom," Hermione told him, rubbing his shoulder in concern. He started to relax as the heat faded. He looked at her.

"I don't want to use a condom with you," he replied. "I want to feel everything. It's worth a bit of pain for the pleasure—but still—"

Snape pressed the tip of his wand to Hermione's lower belly and murmured a spell.

Hermione felt her insides flip over and gasped. The spell she used with Ron didn't have that reaction. She didn't feel anything other than a little warmth.

"What was that?" she asked Severus. "I've used a contraceptive charm before and it never felt like that."

"The spell you used was probably a blockage spell," Snape said softly. "It blocks the sperm from reaching the egg. The spell I used made your egg impenetrable. No sperm can break through to fertilize it. It's a much better spell because you can feel it take. Combined with the potion I drank, you are doubly protected," he told her softly, placing his wand and the empty potions bottle back on the night stand.

"I could have taken it before, but I wanted you to see me take it, so you'd be reassured," Snape said, his eyes drifting over her body again. "I want you to feel safe and not worry about becoming pregnant."

Hermione gave him a little smile for his thoughtfulness. She couldn't imagine Ron taking anything that he knew would make his balls hurt. He'd rather wear condoms, she was sure.

"Do you feel safe, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Yes. I do, Severus."

"Good," he said, leaning toward her, then taking her down to the bed and covering her mouth with his own. His erection came back with a vengeance as he lapped at her mouth, one of his hands slowly caressing her shoulder, then sliding down her arm, then finally entwining with her fingers and drawing her hand up so it rested alongside her head. His other hand cradled her head, controlling its motion as he kissed her slowly, running his tongue around every soft inch of her warmth mouth before tangling with her own seeking, supple muscle.

Snape was a good kisser because he took his time and didn't battle with her. This wasn't war, this was a blending of forces. Her lips were so soft, her mouth wet and full of heat. He licked and lapped at it sensually, feeling her body moving against his, her free hand caressing his back, moving along his spine, clutching lightly at his flesh, the fingertips moving over his musculature. It felt wonderful being touched by her so gently. It felt wonderful to be—accepted and wanted.

He slipped his hand from under her head and reached around, catching her arm and dragging it upward, entwining his fingers in her other hand and also trapping it next to her head as he shifted his body so he lay on top of her, looking down into those intelligent brown eyes. They were soft as they gazed back at him.

Hermione shuddered a bit as he lay on top of her, his weight pressing down on her body, her hands pinned alongside her head. She couldn't get out from under him if she wanted to, but—she didn't want to as he kissed her again, moving against her gently. His loins were a little lower than her, but his cock rested against her core, long and heavy. But he didn't press. Instead, he shifted downward, running his mouth along her jaw line, then latching on to her throat, Hermione closing her eyes in pleasure as he gently suckled it, then ran his lips over her shoulder. She gasped as he suddenly nipped it, then pulled back to look at her face for a moment.

"You liked that," he said softly.

Hermione felt as if she couldn't speak and Severus suddenly released both her hands and rose up on all fours, straddling her body, looking down at her. He bent his elbows so he could reach her and began to kiss and lick her neck, shoulders and upper torso all over only his mouth touching her, Hermione beginning to writhe as he thoroughly ran his mouth over her body, slipping lower, mouthing and suckling her breasts now, running his tongue over her nipples and learning her responses as he tried different things, biting them lightly, capturing her nipples between his lips, drawing her breasts into his mouth while simultaneously running his tongue around the peaks. His eyes were on her face the entire time he laved her, drinking in her responses, aware of her hands running over his shoulders and through his hair as she moaned.

He liked the way she moaned . . . soft, pleasure-filled, peppered with gasps depending on what he was doing. Her skin was slightly salty from perspiration, but clean tasting and he suckled, licked and kissed his way down it, lapping at her navel, which made her giggle a bit. He smirked up at her, pleased.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed, then jerked a bit as he kissed her lower belly. She jerked a lot more when he ran his lips through her pubic hair.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, tensing up, her legs suddenly clamping together.

Snape rose up on his hands and narrowed his eyes at her.

"You know what I want to do," he said softly. "Taste you directly. Open your legs for me, Hermione. Let me spread your petals and taste your nectar."

Sweet talk was supposed to work magic on witches. Hermione made a noise and opened her legs for him. He kissed her lower belly appreciatively when she did, then moved lower on the bed, falling to his belly, his legs sticking out the bottom as he got his first close-up look at a woman's pussy. It smelled wonderful, musky, earthy, even slightly fruity as he breathed in appreciatively.

Hermione lay there tensely, wondering what he was doing even as her body was crying out for him to do something. Then she felt his fingers on her, parting the lips of her sex gently, and let out a little gasp.

Snape looked at her swollen clit, and the small slit beneath it. Her inner skin was so pink, and glistened with lubrication. He could see a bit of creaminess around her entrance and with the tip of one finger, gently collected it, Hermione buckling a little at the sensation of it rotating against her sensitive flesh. Snape looked at it, then sucked it off his finger with a sigh of pleasure.

"You taste exquisite, Hermione," he said hoarsely, then parted her lips wider and ran his tongue around her clit several times before letting it caress the small, hardened peak. Hermione squealed and clamped her thighs tightly around his head, partially sitting up.

"Oh my gods!" she hissed as Snape tried to unclench her thighs.

He managed to pry them open, then wrapped his arms around them tightly to hold them apart and dove in again, licking at her pussy as she jerked and hissed and pulled at his hair.

"Oh, stop! Stop, Severus! It's too much! Aaaah!"

But Snape could detect that same scent he smelled when he was bringing her close to climax the first time with his fingers, only it was more powerful and compelling since he was at the source. He could tell she was close to orgasming, and he wanted her to do it, so he could be right there to drink her down. So, he didn't stop—he couldn't stop. He was going for the prize.

Hermione shrieked and twisted under his tongue and lips, cursing when he used his big nose to stimulate her even further.

"You're a freak!" she gasped at him, her back arching.

Severus didn't disagree with her as the fountain opened up and she climaxed again, her release wetting his nose, cheeks and chin as he greedily slurped down that ambrosia. He'd never forget how Hermione tasted. How hot and how rich she was, sweet, cloying, mouth-watering. Her intimate flavor was now embedded in his psyche, imprinted on his taste buds as much as any potion he'd ever tasted.

He stayed with Hermione, tenderly lapping at and kissing her core until her thighs stopped trembling, and her cries subsided into little purrs. Then he kissed his way back up her body, then lay back on top of her, looking down as he rested on his elbows.

Hermione was just starting to lose the crimson flush that accompanied her orgasm. Her normally bushy hair was soft and damp, beginning to form ringlets. She was breathing hard, and Snape could feel her heart fluttering like a bird against his chest every time she breathed in. Her eyes were closed and she licked her lips reflexively.

"I'm doing well, aren't I?" he asked her softly.

Hermione's brown eyes opened and met his glittering black orbs. She looked a bit drunk, and he smirked at her expression.

"Quite well," she agreed, shuddering a little. His face was shiny and he smelled of fresh pussy, sandalwood and sweat. It wasn't unpleasant, however. It was—part of this. Snape made what Hermione would have thought—nasty—acceptable. And it was because he was so curious, inquisitive and delighted with everything. She doubted if he would have lost his erection if he had been the one to deflower her and see the blood on his cock.

It probably would have made him harder. She drew him down into a kiss, her own juices smearing on her face as they kissed hungrily for a moment. Snape pulled away from the kiss, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Back to square one," he purred, rising up on his hands and knees again, attacking her throat. "But this time—flip over."

* * *

Snape gathered Hermione's damp hair and moved it aside, kissing his way down her back, over her shoulders, licking her spine, nipping at her sides, familiarizing himself with every curve and contour. When he came to her arse, he buried his nose between her cheeks, and lapped at her pussy from behind, when nearly made her leap out of the bed, so he held her down by her wrists, her buttocks shaking and jiggling deliciously, so plump and full he just had to gently bite them, feeling all that flesh between his teeth as Hermione jerked and called him a freak again.

He didn't mind being one at all as he kissed her thighs. Oh, she had such full, soft thighs and a bum like two well-packed goose down pillows.

"You're perfect," he breathed. "Your body is so perfect, Hermione."

Snape rose up on his hands and rested the shaft of his cock in the cleft and slowly began to move back and forth, his foreskin working back and forth, hissing as her buttocks massaged him. Hermione gasped at the feeling of his hardness sliding between her cheeks. Gods, it felt so good. She moaned as he let out a little growl.

This was good for him, and helped to desensitize him a bit.

"Get on your hands and knees, Hermione" he said hoarsely, rising to his knees.

As if in a dream, Hermione obeyed him and he curled over her, once again pressing his cock between her cheeks and sliding back and forth.

"Oh gods, Hermione," he said, his voice thick and shuddering as he humped against her. "You feel so good. That arse—"

He rose back to his knees and stopped for a moment, grasping the base of his cock and slapping it against her buttocks several times, gasping as it jiggled. He was so hard. He then gathered her hair in one hand and pulled her head back gently, bending over her again, pressing into her with his hot, hard tool and kissing her throat.

"I want to shag you now," he breathed into her ear, still moving against her. His voice was soft and silken with desire now, echoing the seductive timbre of his older years. "Like this. I want to do it like this, Hermione. From the back. I'm so ready—have I convinced you? Can you feel how much I want you?"

"Severusssss."

"Tell me I can, Hermione. I want to feel you wrapped around me. I want to know what it's like. It's time. Let me," he breathed, reaching under her with one hand and caressing her belly before letting his fingers slip between her folds again, Hermione bucking against him, her arse hitting his thighs as he rubbed gently.

"You want me. Just say it. I'll be good, I promise," he breathed. "Give it to me, Hermione. Let go. Let me."

With his cock pressing between her cheeks and his fingers softly coaxing her, Hermione shuddered and breathed, "Do it, Severus. You can do it."

* * *

A/N: Last cliffie. No avoiding the goodies now. Lol. I just want to let you all know that I'm really not doing this to torture you. I just feel that after all of you reading more than thirty-something chapters of this story without any lemons at all, that you deserve a few hot chapters of intimacy between the couple. I could have wrapped it up in one chapter, like I did Ron, but I think they (and you) deserve more time than that. This is why I'm drawing it out and giving it the big buildup. It's kind of a thank you for sticking with me this far. That's all I wanted to say. Thanks for reading.


	45. One Eternal Moment

**Chapter 44 ~ One Eternal Moment**

Snape straightened, then pulled Hermione up so her back rested against his chest. He began caressing her breasts and body ardently, kissing the side of her face, her neck and her shoulders, doing his best to give her some final stimulation while working up his nerve and trying to calm himself. Hermione had no idea how nervous and excited he was, how much he wanted to make a good showing.

He had no idea that even if intercourse didn't go well as he wished, or last as long as he hoped, Hermione would still be very happy with him and satisfied with their first engagement. Like most men, he believed that penetration and longevity was the crux of sexual encounters, when it wasn't that way at all. He made sure to make Hermione feel good, to be undeniably affected by him. He'd given her passion and time, a sense of being wanted and appreciated. He'd made her feel like the most desirable witch in the world. He'd already reached the pinnacle with her, and never realized he'd already conquered that mountaintop. He truly was a lover, and as young as he was, she'd be hard put to find anyone else like him.

"Hermione," he breathed into her ear. "Hermione—I—I—"

"Hermione's head rested against his shoulder, her body slick under his hands as she sighed back at him, "Don't talk, Severus—just keep going. I feel so—I want this. Want you—gods."

Hermione twisted her head so he could reach her mouth, and Snape kissed her once more, his tongue probing her mouth hungrily as he thought about sliding another part of his anatomy into her warm flesh. His cock was trapped vertically against her lower back, pulsing against her warmth and the scent of her desire filled the room, overpowering the flowers surrounding the bed. Gently, Snape pushed her forward so she was on her hands and knees, and he smoothed one hand up her spine, reaching under her hair and grasping her neck.

"Put your head down and your arse up," he breathed, guiding her head down to the pillow. He thought that would be a better, easier angle for penetration. Hermione let him do it, her cheek pressing into the Slytherin green pillow.

She could smell the scent of his hair in the fabric, her eyes closed and pussy nearly clapping with need as he gently adjusted her, his warm hand sliding over her waist, hips and buttocks as he scooted back to see his target. She wanted to feel him inside her, his body and her body connected by flesh embedded and surrounded by, fitted together, two parts of the perfect whole. This wasn't like with Ron. There was desire with him, but not the intense sense urgency and necessity she felt with Severus. She'd go mad if they didn't complete this or attempt to complete it.

Severus looked down at her plump arse, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself. He pressed his hand against one cheek, pushing it aside and revealing her glistening core.

"Merlin," he whispered, looking at her glistening thighs and the pink flesh between them. He could see the lips around her entrance were slightly puffy, puffier than before. They would caress his cock too. He shuddered a little and gripped his cock just under the head and pressed against Hermione's softness, seeking entry.

"Oh!" Hermione groaned and he stopped quickly, slightly afraid.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked her tremulously, still holding her cheek apart with one pale hand.

"No. No, it's just—pressure. Keep going," she breathed. "You have to push harder. Push harder."

Snape blinked at her, then resumed, doing as she directed and suddenly the head of his cock sunk into the tightest, hottest, juiciest, softest bliss he'd ever experienced. Hermione left out a gasp.

"Oh gods, you're so big! Shit! Oh—"

Snape's mouth was open and he couldn't speak or move for several moments. It just felt too good. Suddenly, Hermione pushed back hard, immersing him deeply in her sleeve with a shuddering cry which was echoed by Snape, who hadn't expected it. He was inside her and it was—amazing.

"Hermione—" he gasped as she surrounded him, both of his hands on her arse now, clutching her cheeks so tightly the flesh bubbled between his spread fingers. He gripped them as if they were handholds to hang on to for dear life.

"Severus," he heard Hermione breathe, then her arse shifted forward, sliding his rigid cock deliciously through her warmth. It felt as if her body was actually pulsing and gripping his shaft, or was it his shaft that was pulsing against her tight walls? Snape couldn't tell. It just felt incredible and if she moved any more he was going to come.

"Don't move!" he hissed desperately. "Please Hermione. Let me do this or I'm not going to last!"

Hermione fell still when he said this. She wanted him to last, to move, to shag her. He was inside and she felt so full of him, aware of the throbbing of his cock inside her. It felt so right, so good even though he wasn't moving yet. Just being impaled was making her libido do somersaults, and she tightened around him in reaction.

Snape hissed again as her pussy clutched at him.

"Oh gods, Hermione. Don't move inside either," he moaned, shaking as he fought the pleasure he felt. He had to look away from where their bodies met, avoid looking at the soft pink flesh puckered around his girth like a vertical mouth filled and stretched far too wide.

"I can't help it," she managed to say as she pulsed again.

"Help it!" he demanded, trying to calm himself enough to actually stroke her without spraying come all over the bedroom. He felt his balls begin to pulse slightly, and knew what that was—pre-ejaculation signs.

No. No, not yet. Desperately he tried thinking of something unpleasant to stop it. He found it immediately. James Potter and the Marauders. He imagined the four of them, wands drawn on him, and his pulsing slowed as anger rose. Breathing heavily, he pulled back, Hermione cooing like a dove, then gasping as he gave her a deep thrust, hitting her cervix and stopping quickly, holding himself pressed deep inside her.

"Yes," he breathed, running one hand down her spine.

"Do it again, Severus," Hermione breathed. "More—"

He steeled himself and slowly drew back, his eyes nearly rolling up into his head as her flesh sucked at him and he nearly withdrew, the flange of his head barely visible between her lips. Oh, it felt so--

"Ommph" he grunted, driving back into her, actually jerking her body.

"Shit! Oh! Oh yes! Yes!" Hermione squealed. Damn, this was good. It was as if he were hitting some achy sweet spot deep inside her.

Snape leaned over her now, placing both hands on either side of her body and began to stroke her slowly, but with some power, jerking her body with each delicious penetration, his mouth slack and hair swinging gently as she moaned under him, sounding like an angel, a beautiful, sexy angel, her buttocks rippling as he bounced against them.

He kept it slow and methodical, not rushing, getting used to the sensation of her pussy swallowing him down. It seemed the more he stroked, the deeper he went as if she were stretching to accommodate his size. Soon, his balls were pressing against her core each time he entered her. He found his rhythm, his belly tight and lower lip caught between his teeth.

All Hermione knew was Severus at this point, feeling his perspiration dripping on her back as he took the gift she gave him, his groans and hisses of pleasure filling her ears as his length and girth filled her body. It felt so satisfying, so bloody fantastic. Gods, sex really was good with the right partner.

And Severus Snape was as right as rain.

Snape began to move faster, his arse clenching and unclenching as he sat back on his heels and grasped her waist, drawing her back into his stroke now, going as deep as he could, Hermione crying out, his name on her lips, egging him on. Yes, he was making her feel good and she was growing slicker and tighter around him. Once more he smelled the change in her, and began to hit her harder and faster, wanting to feel her hot juices pour over his plunging organ. Now there were no NEWTS or academic lessons, but he was still learning, learning the depth and breadth of a Hermione Granger with no other ambition than to belong to him for this one eternal moment.

"Give it to me!" he gasped, stroking her hard and fast, clutching her waist and driving into her desperately as if trying to burst through some invisible obstruction, Hermione matching him stroke for stroke, meeting each thrust with her own, then rolling her hips, making him hitch and buckle inside her, nearly making him lose it. But he forced the feeling down, once again using the Marauders as a sex aid.

At least they were good for something.

Suddenly, Hermione let out a screech and Severus cursed as her sleeve tightened down on his cock like a long, velvet fist, then heat, slow, liquid and rolling covered him and leaked out the sides of their connection, wetting his pelvis and balls as the witch shuddered, her inner vibrations adding to his pleasure.

"Fuck!" Snape yelled as he came, his balls tightening and electricity shooting up his spine as he released in several intensely pleasurable bursts of bliss, filling Hermione with his seed. He immediately collapsed on her back, panting as they both slid down in the bed, his softening organ still buried in her warmth. He gently and tiredly kissed her shoulder.

The whole session only lasted about ten minutes, but it was more than enough for both of them and not too bad for a first time, especially since he had gotten one more orgasm out of her.

They both lay there, breathing heavily, Snape resting on her body, his lips pressed against her throat now, but unmoving, just resting there, maintaining contact with her warm body. His cock was still inside her too, warm, comfortable and flaccid. He didn't want to ever move again.

But she shifted under him and he weakly moved off of her, falling on his stomach beside her, turning his face towards hers. Hermione looked utterly exhausted, but her brown eyes were soft and she wore a very sleepy looking smile that made his chest swell. Her hair was a mass of tangles partially covering her face, and he gently pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly.

"That was amazing," he said to her softly, one hand moving to her back and caressing it gently. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled again.

"Yes, it was. I feel so relaxed—as if I don't have a care in the world. It feels nice—but strange. I'm so used to having a million thoughts in my head."

Snape kissed her temple.

"Enjoy it. I'm sure it won't last long," he said, feeling his eyes growing heavy.

"I'm going to have to leave, you know," Hermione said softly.

Snape's eyes snapped open immediately.

"Leave?"

"Yes. Eleven o'clock curfew, remember? It's a weeknight," she reminded him.

Snape's dark eyes rested on her. He didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay and sleep with him. But, to ask her to do so would be asking her to break the rules. She was over the age of consent, but there was still school protocol to follow. And protocol said she was to be in her house by eleven.

"Yes," he said softly, taking a strand of her hair and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. "I'll walk you to Gryffindor tower."

She gave him a smile.

"No, you won't," she replied. "You'll stay here like you usually do when I leave. I can get there under my own steam, Severus. But it's sweet of you to offer."

Snape scowled as Hermione climbed over him, got out of bed, gathered up her clothing and walked into the bathroom, closing the door. He listened as she used the loo and flushed it, then heard water running in the basin. His brows were furrowed.

He hated she was leaving. But after a moment or so, he relaxed. She was just leaving for now. Their relationship as lovers had been established and hopefully, there would be more nights like this.

He was almost sure there would be.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. ***


	46. Followups

**Chapter 45 ~ Follow-Ups**

"I'm telling you, Harry—her tits—" Ron exclaimed, curling his spread fingers before his chest as if holding two large handfuls of breasts. "And, and her arse—"

Ron dropped his hands behind him, still curved, this time as if holding a large, succulent bum.

"Just—just everything about her, her thighs and oh—her mouth—Harry, she's the hottest thing at Hogwarts. I couldn't get enough of her!" he said, dropping onto the side of his bed and looking rather goofy.

Harry blinked at Ron. He had just told him he'd shagged Susan Bones in the kitchen cupboard.

The cupboard? Where the food is?

Harry wasn't sure if he ever wanted to eat in the Great Hall again. But that was beside the point. This was something serious.

"Um, Ron—tell me how this happened again?"

"Enchanted oysters," Ron replied dreamily.

"Oysters."

"Yeah, oysters. I ate one and got wood immediately."

"So, then Susan just shagged you. Just like that," Harry said, not thinking this was the kind of witch Ron needed to get involved with if she went around shagging every wizard with a convenient erection.

"Well, no. Not just like that. See, the oysters would cause a lot of pain—down there if a bloke didn't get off, you know? I was in pain, Harry and there was nothing else for it. She did it to keep me from suffering," Ron explained. "And I'm telling you, Harry, I've shagged two witches before Susan. Lavender and Hermione. Neither of them even came close to Susan. I've asked her to go out with me."

"What? You just broke up with Hermione," Harry said. "How can you go out with another witch so soon? I thought you loved her."

"I do love her, as a friend," Ron replied, "but she's into Snape now, and besides, she's no Susan. Susan not only shags well, but she COOKS. Cooks, Harry. And good. Now I ask you, is that compatibility or what? Hermione could burn water."

Harry scowled at him. That wasn't true and Ron knew it. Hermione was great at making potions and never burned anything and Harry told him so.

"All right, but potions aren't food, Harry. You can follow a food recipe and it can still come out terrible. You remember the Treacle tarts she made us for Christmas—"

Harry shuddered. They had been awful because Hermione tried to make them 'healthier' by not adding anything sweet. Blech! Getting them down had been a chore, but they had to do it because Hermione was watching them with a big smile.

"How are they?" she asked Harry as Ron was trying to swallow his down as quickly as possible and end the torment.

Harry swallowed and replied, "Hermione, I can honestly say I've never tasted anything like them. Ever."

She happily gave each of them a large bag with a kiss on the cheek and a "Happy Christmas," thinking they were a smash.

They were a smash all right. Ron and Harry had an awesome Treacle tart fight that night, crumbs and broken tarts strewn everywhere. They were hard enough to sting when they made contact too. They were the perfect projectiles.

"All right. So Hermione's no Darren McGrady, but Ron, think about it. Do you really want to be involved with a witch who can do things to your food? Suppose she gets mad at you?"

"The make-up sex would be great," Ron replied, falling back on the bed. "I've got wood just thinking about it."

Harry shook his head.

"Ron, you're thinking with the wrong head on this one, I'm telling you."

Ron sat up on his elbows, not even taking in what Harry was saying.

"And you know what she had the nerve to tell me? That I'd be teased if I went out with her because she's a bit plump," Ron said to Harry. "There's nothing wrong with a thick witch at all. Actually, now I think they're better than skinny witches. There's so much more to them," Ron said with the conviction of the newly indoctrinated.

Harry knew he had to approach this subject delicately.

"Um—Ron, not everyone's going to share your point of view," he said carefully. "She could be right, you know. A lot of people—wizards—don't find big girls attractive."

"That's a crock!" Ron snarled, sitting up now. "There are plenty of married plump witches! Look at my mum!"

"Yeah, but I don't think she started out plump. She just—ended up that way. Look how skinny Ginny is," Harry said by way of example.

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"So, let me ask you something, Harry. If you married Ginny and she plumped up like mum, would you still love her?"

Harry didn't even hesitate.

"Of course I would," he replied.

"But, if she had been a bit plump to start with, you wouldn't have given her a second look, would you? No matter how great she was?"

Harry reddened and Ron shook his head.

"See, that's the difference between me and other blokes, Harry. I know a good thing when I find it, and I don't let anyone else tell me how to feel about it. I don't have to do what anyone else does. Everyone said Hermione was too much of a brain for me, but I didn't listen and while we were together, I was happy for a while. I don't regret going out with her—it just didn't work out. But I don't regret it at all. We tried."

Harry just looked at Ron. He did march to the beat of his own bongo most of the time.

Ron continued.

"I like Susan, I really do. I think she is one of Hogwarts' best kept secrets and I think we'll be a fine match, if she agrees to go out with me—"

Harry frowned.

"You mean she turned you down?" Harry asked him, amazed. He didn't imagine Susan had wizards lined up to ask her out, no matter how nice she was.

"Not exactly. She said I was just—just still in shag mode and told me to think about what I asked her for a week. If I still feel the same way at the end of it, she might go out with me."

"Wow, that's—that's nice of her. She could have trapped you," Harry said.

Ron shook his head.

"It's impossible to trap someone who wants to be caught, Harry. After Hermione, I need a witch like Susan. She's smart, affectionate, has great magic, cooks and is a great shag. She also has time for other things than studying. I don't know much else about her than that, but it's a good start."

"Especially the great shag part," Harry said dryly. Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, there is that," he agreed.

The two friends sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Ron looking thoughtful. Finally, he said, "Harry, how does 'Susan Weasley' sound to you?"

"It sounds like you're bloody pussy-whipped, that's how," he replied, shaking his head. .

Ron just smiled at him and fell back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling dreamily.

He thought 'Susan Weasley' had a right nice ring to it.

* * *

When Hermione let herself into Snape's quarters the following day during lunch, she had dragons flying around in her belly. Were things going to be strange between them now? Something was bound to be different. But, she didn't intend to neglect her studies, and if he tried anything, she was going to have to tell him that flat out. The purpose of being lovers was so they would have the freedom to do what was needed without complications. She hoped it would really be that way. She did her best not to think about last night, although delicious little images kept seeping in, distracting her from her work. When she shagged Ron, it didn't distract her at all. But Ron wasn't Severus.

The wall slid up and Hermione walked into the room to find Snape sitting at the desk with a small pile of books, one of which he seemed to be studying intensely.

"Hi," Hermione said to him.

Snape looked up as if surprised to see her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, returning to his book.

Hermione blinked at him. It was his standard greeting, and instead of feeling put out about it, Hermione felt so relieved she could have just slumped where she stood. If he had been all hot-eyed and solicitous, she would have felt uncomfortable. But this, this she could handle.

She walked over to the desk, put her knapsack on the floor and took a couple of books out of the cubby hole, along with parchment and a pen. She sat down and opened to a page and began reading.

Yet, Snape was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn't say anything else to her. Hermione's eyes shifted towards him curiously. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer.

"What are you studying?" she asked the wizard.

Snape looked up at her.

"I found a shelf full of instructional texts that I know will come in handy," he said to her, quirking an eyebrow.

"What kind of instructional texts?" she asked him. "Arithmancy?"

"Hardly," he said, sliding the book he was reading over to her.

Hermione looked down at the page, reddened and turned the book's cover so she could read the title. It was the "Illustrated Book of Kama Sutra."

"Severus! What is this?" she demanded, still red.

Snape looked surprised at the question.

"I think that's obvious. And over here I have 'The Joy of Sex' and "Tying Up Loose Ends: The Big Book of Bondage.' There are an amazing number of knots in that one."

Hermione should have known Snape was up to something and wouldn't just ignore what happened last night. He might not be all over her, but these books clearly showed he intended to be.

"Why are you reading these books?" she asked him.

Snape looked as if he were going to say something withering about the stupidity of her question, but didn't. It wouldn't have been wise to do. Instead he gave her the full explanation.

"I am reading these books because as your lover, I have a job to do, and that is to make you happy and all our encounters special. Doing the same thing over and over isn't the least bit exciting, and I'm supposed to be exciting. So, I'm reading up on sexual techniques and positions so I can be what you need the next time we—engage."

Hermione tried to scowl at him, but smirked a little.

"So, you're saying it's 'all about me?'"

"Of course," Snape replied, taking the book back from her and finding the last page he was on, looking down at it with a studious, no-nonsense expression on his face.

"And not just a little bit about you?" she asked him.

"Well, of course I'm involved," he said, not looking at her as he slightly wet his thumb and turned to the next page, cocking his head and turning the book slightly to the right.

"I'd say you are more than involved," Hermione said. "It's about your pleasure, too. Your needs."

Snape sort of grunted at her.

Hermione smiled, actually glad at his response. He didn't take her question and turn it into an opportunity to talk about sex or make a move on her. She would have hated that.

It seemed that there really were boundaries and Hermione appreciated it. All her feelings of apprehension drained away.

"Fine. Study then, Mr. Lover. I've got to get to work," she told him, returning to her books.

But she smiled the entire time she was there. When she departed, Snape sighed and slowly closed the book he was reading. He had decided not to say anything about last night if Hermione didn't, but greased the wheels a bit for conversation by having all those sex books out in the open, so she knew he was thinking about it. About them.

Although Hermione had something to say about the books, she still didn't say anything about the sex between them and actually seemed happy it wasn't discussed. He could feel she was still comfortable around him, and that was a good thing. He had hoped things wouldn't become "weird."

He smirked a little. She had called him, "Mr. Lover" and didn't have any objections to his studying those books, so he had to assume she wouldn't have many objections to trying out things he'd learned.

The only question was, when would he get the chance to show her? He said he would be there for her when she needed him and was sure it wouldn't work the other way around since she had far more to study and work on than he did. He was going to have to follow her schedule. He looked thoughtful.

He wanted more access to her. He couldn't help it. She was—incredible. If he were going to lure her back into his arms, he'd have to work on being more attractive to her in very subtle ways.

It might be a good idea to take her flying this weekend again, if she'd agree to go. He hoped being chased by a dragon hadn't cooled her ardor for flight.

Hmm. Wait, he had a better idea how to keep the juices flowing.

Duel her—maybe, make a little side 'wager.' He'd have to be careful how he went about it. He knew what he'd want, but—what could he offer Hermione that she'd possibly want? She already had access to his books and he had agreed to stand in on her NEWTS. What else could he possibly offer her that would make her willing to wager?

He thought about it.

How about teaching her a few of his original spells? The ones not catalogued? Surely she would go for that. It fell into the category of "learning new things." She wouldn't be able to resist that offer.

A little voice in the wizard's head said, "Severus, you're not being vaguely fair about this. You can beat Hermione in a duel and you know it."

Yes, he did know it, but he wasn't about to let a little thing like a conscience ruin his plans. If she agreed to duel him with the wager, then she agreed. He wouldn't be twisting her arm—

Snape smirked a bit, imagining what their next intimate encounter might be like.

He wouldn't be twisting her arm, yet.

* * *

A/N: Darren McGrady used to cook for the Royal Family. Thanks for reading.


	47. Challenges

**Chapter 46 ~ Challenges**

Hermione returned to Snape's quarters that evening to find that the wizard wasn't there. She called out his name to make sure, but there was no answer. He hadn't left a note or anything. Slightly miffed, Hermione tossed her knapsack to the floor, took out her Advanced Charms book and practiced diagramming wand motions for some of the more difficult spells. Her mind wasn't totally on her work, however.

Where was he?

* * *

Snape stood in a clearing in the Forbidden forest, his wand drawn and intent focused as he practiced his spell work unimpeded by prying eyes. Several small trees were cut down, and a few rocks bubbled hotly on the ground, completely melted into magma.

The wizard focused again, turning his wand on himself.

"Duplicus," he breathed, creating a double of himself. It was a mirror image and moved as he did. When he walked away, so did his double, and when he cast a spell, it did likewise but only in appearance. It had no power after all, it was an illusion. He created two more duplicates. They were good for confusing opponents.

"Let's see if Hermione can pick a winner," Snape said to himself with a smirk as his duplicates surrounded him. He ended the spell, then transformed into his gryffin form and flew back towards the castle.

* * *

When Snape arrived, he found a scowling Hermione poring over a parchment. By the agitated way she was writing, he knew she was less than happy, probably because he'd been gone several hours.

"Well, you missed the Arithmancy problems I did tonight," Hermione hissed, not looking up at him.

"Did I?" he replied, walking behind her chair and looking over her shoulder.

Hermione looked up at him, frowning.

"Yes you did. Where were you?" she demanded.

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Keeping tabs on me?" he asked her softly.

Hermione colored and turned back to her work quickly.

"No, I'm not keeping tabs on you. It's just that this is supposed to be our study time and you can't study if you're not here," she replied.

"You have more to study than I do," he replied, taking a seat in the chair next to her. "But, if you must know, I was studying. Actually, I was working on my spell work. I wanted to do it in private so as not to tip my hand before our duel."

Hermione looked at him.

"Our duel?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten the upcoming duel, Hermione. Of course, you can back out—"

"Never! I'm not afraid to duel you!"

"Of course not. Gryffindors are never afraid when they should be," Snape said coolly as Hermione screwed up her face.

"This has nothing to do with my being a Gryffindor. I could be a Hufflepuff and still be willing to face off with you. You seem to think you can beat me, Severus. I assure you, that won't be easy to do, no matter what original spells you have. Dueling not only requires good spells but good defense, and smarts. I have both."

"Not to mention a modest opinion of yourself," the wizard sneered.

"No more modest than you are," she snapped back at him, her brown eyes flashing.

Snape stared into those brown eyes, his thoughts going back to the night before, remembering how soft and passionate they were for him. He felt a little throb in his nether regions and shifted a bit.

"You seem quite certain you can hold your own with me, Hermione," he said.

"I am," the witch replied confidently.

"I see. Perhaps—perhaps you'd like to—I don't know—make the duel more interesting."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"More interesting? In what way?"

"Well, the satisfaction of winning would be fine, but I think there should be some kind of reward for winning," Snape said, looking at his nails.

"A reward?"

"A prize."

"Like what?"

"If you win, I will show you three of my original spells. No one else has them except me. That sounds appealing doesn't it?"

"That depends on how good they are," Hermione said.

Snape pushed back his chair and stood up. He pulled out his wand and tapped himself, casting the duplication spell wordlessly.

Hermione's eyes rounded as he repeated the spell. Three Snapes stood staring back at her.

"That's amazing!" Hermione said as all three Snapes blinked at her.

"It's quite a good spell, and gives you some idea what you're up against," all three Snapes said in triplicate.

"I can still identify the original," Hermione said to him smugly.

"Not if I do this—Nocturnis!"

The room went dark for a moment, then Snape's voice cut through the darkness.

"Incendio," three voices said, relighting the fireplace. Then the three Snapes relit the torches and eyed Hermione.

"Come pick a winner," they said in chorus.

Frowning slightly, Hermione rose and walked up to all three Snapes, eyeing them. She reached out her hand, but all three stepped back.

"No touching," they all said. "Pick one."

Hermione studied them. Snape had darkened the room but hadn't changed his middle position at all. Hermione pretended to move toward the Snape to the right and saw just a slight twitching of its mouth. She then moved toward the middle Snape. There was no reaction at all. Then she moved to the right Snape, moving closer and again the twitch appeared. Suddenly she poked the middle Snape in the chest hard with her pointy little finger.

"Ow!" he hissed at her as she grinned.

"I told you I could identify you," she said.

"Yes, but I wasn't moving. It would be harder in that case. Still, it is a good spell, isn't it?"

Hermione had to agree it was.

"What others do you have?" she asked him.

Snape made his counterparts disappear, then looked down his nose at her.

"I'm not about to show you all my spells," he responded. "But I give you my word they are all good spells. Defensive and offensive. Well worth learning."

Hermione considered this, then asked, "All right. That would be my reward. What would be yours?"

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"I think that isn't hard to figure out, Hermione," he said softly.

Hermione blinked at him, then blushed.

"Oh," she said.

"Yes. Oh," Snape agreed. "It could be weeks before you feel the urge to merge, whereas I would happily accommodate you every night until the NEWTS. You are addictive. I want to shag you again. I've learned some new tricks."

Hermione walked back over to the desk and began to put her books away. It was nearly time to leave. Snape watched her silently.

Hermione picked up her knapsack and slung it over her shoulder and turned to look at him.

"I'll have to think about it, Severus," she said softly. "I'll let you know."

The wizard approached her.

"May I kiss you good night?" he asked her.

Hermione blinked up at him, her eyes resting on his mouth.

"Just a regular kiss, Severus. No tongue," she replied, closing her eyes and puckering.

If she thought she was just going to get away with that, she was wrong as the wizard drew her gently into his arms. If he couldn't get a little tongue, a bit of body to body contact would have to suffice. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing Hermione sensuously, suckling and pulling at her lips. Warmth flowed over her at the contact. Snape stopped, his dark eyes glinting down at her, hoping she'd want more.

She did. But, it was time to go.

"Good night, Severus," Hermione said, turning away quickly. Snape zipped past her and opened the wall for her, then his office door.

"Good night, Hermione," he said softly as she exited, walking quickly up the dungeon corridor as the former Potions master licked his lips as if savoring the taste of her.

He hoped she'd take him up on the challenge.

* * *

The next morning Lavender waited patiently in the common room for Ron to come down. He and Hermione had been broken up for a few days now, and break up etiquette was a thing of the past. Ron was officially on the market, and she had her shopping bag wide open.

She quickly took out her compact and gave herself a quick once over. Yes, she looked great. She put it away, her blue eyes resting on the stairwell leading from the boy's dormitory. She was seated on the sofa. She noticed Ginny emerging from the girl's stairwell and looked down at the floor, not wanting to meet her eyes. She'd had enough of Ginny Weasley to last her the rest of term. But, there was nothing she could say now. Ron no longer went out with Hermione.

"Just stay away from her, Ron, or you're going to mess everything up."

"I can just say hi, Harry. Really, that's not going to ruin anything."

Lavender perked up as she heard Harry talking to Ron. They appeared on the stairs, Ron's face in a frown. She popped up as Ginny greeted Harry with a kiss on the cheek. Smoothing her hair, Lavender positioned herself for interception.

"What's with you, Ron?" Ginny asked her scowling brother.

"He's in lust," Harry said. "Completely whipped."

"What?" Ginny repled, both of her eyebrows lifted. "In lust? With who?"

Before Harry could answer Lavender appeared, blocking their way, her blue eyes resting on Ron almost hungrily.

"Can I walk to breakfast with you now, Ron?" she asked him.

Ginny rolled her eyes and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Come on, Harry. I see the vultures are circling," she muttered, dragging Harry away.

Lavender scowled after her for a moment, then looked at Ron.

"Er—hi Lavender," he said, running a finger around his collar.

"Hi Won-Won," she said with a smile. "So, we can walk to breakfast together? You are single after all."

"Yeah, I am, for the time being," Ron said. "But hopefully, not for long."

Lavender smiled at him brightly.

"I knew you still felt something for me, Ron. It was written in the stars from the very beginning," she gushed.

Ron's eyes widened.

"Um—Lavender, you need to know something—"

"Oh, you don't have to say it, Ron. I already know. I'll go back out with you."

Ron's eyes went as wide as saucers as Lavender locked on to his arm like a pit bull.

"Wait. No. That wasn't what I was going to say, Lavender," Ron said, trying to tug his arm out of her grasp.

"What do you mean? You said you didn't plan to be single for long. What else could you mean?"

Ron managed to slip his arm out of her grip.

"I've—I've asked someone else out already. I'm just waiting for an answer," he admitted.

Lavender's face looked like an approaching storm.

"What do you mean you've asked someone else out? Already? Hermione's not even cold yet!" she hissed at him, trying to figure out who else would have attracted his notice and so quickly.

"Well, you didn't seem to mind she was still warm," Ron said, frowning back at the witch.

"Who did you ask out?"

"Well, if you must know, Susan Bones."

Lavender just stared at him for a full minute. Then, she started laughing.

"Susan Bones? The Hufflepuff? She's as big as a castle," the witch said. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious," Ron said coldly. "She's a nice witch, and I think she's gorgeous."

"I think you need to borrow Harry's glasses and take another look at her. She's fat and she's a Hufflepuff. That's two strikes against her. If you go out with her, Ron, you'll be a laughingstock."

Ron's blue eyes narrowed at Lavender.

"She'll make a better girlfriend than you, Lavender. She's grounded. No moaning about the stars being in alignment and how the tea leaves look in a tea cup. She's smart, too. And magically talented. She has food magic."

"That's obvious as big as she is. She probably eats everything she cooks," Lavender said witheringly. "And makes it magically disappear."

"You know what Lavender, that sounds like a great idea," Ron said, an edge to his voice.

"What does?"

"Disappearing. Leave me alone."

And Ron strode away, leaving a flabbergasted Lavender behind. She blinked after him.

"He can't be serious. Susan Bones? She's a cow," Lavender muttered slowly walking after Ron. "What could he possibly see in her? He certainly can't see around her."

Befuddled, she headed to breakfast, not able to understand in the least what handsome Ronald Weasley would see in a girl like Susan.

* * *

A/N: Hey all. Sorry about the lack of updates. I was working on some freelance writing assignments and paid emailings. I was broke and real life cut into the fantasy. I also caught a cold and have 8 of my ten grandchildren currently staying with me. Mimi and Malik are here because their mother is in Birmingham with their one year old half-brother Seven, who was burned by hot oil and flown to the hospital there. So far they've been there about 5 days. If he needs skin grafts they will be there a few more weeks. Only his arm and side were burned, thank goodness and he's doing well. But it's chaos here with so many children, all under 7, and all calling Grandma every five minutes as if no one else is in the house. Sigh. One of my readers, L*, sent me a carton of cherry cigarillos so I felt compelled to write a chapter. Thanks, girl. *** Not one of the most exciting ones, but I have to ease back in and am not feeling my best at the moment. Still, I hope you enjoyed it somewhat. Thanks for reading.


	48. The Hunt

**Chapter 47 ~ The Hunt**

Hermione wasn't sure that she wanted to set a precedent of having sex as a reward and told Snape so the next night.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Severus," she told him apologetically. "I think the satisfaction of winning should be enough for either of us. Even though your spells are attractive, I would hate to lose and then have to be subjected to—"

"Subjected?" Snape responded with a scowl. "I'm not trying to 'subject' you to anything. It would be good for both of us, Hermione. You know that."

Hermione colored slightly but pressed her point home.

"I don't doubt it, but still, it would be sex under duress, Severus. I don't want that. The idea of it doesn't feel right. My body versus your spells. What happens between us should happen because we both want it and its something we feel inside. It's not—not something to be won as a prize. I can't do that. I won't. I'm sorry if you don't understand, but that's my final decision."

Hermione began to read one of her books as Snape just stared at her. Suddenly, he pulled a piece of parchment out of the cubby hole, picked up a pencil and began to write quickly. Hermione's brown eyes shifted toward the parchment, but he had his arm curled around it so it wasn't visible. Then he folded the paper and stood up.

"I'm going flying," he said softly, placing the folded paper beside her and letting himself out of his quarters. Hermione sighed after him, then picked up the parchment and unfolded it. She looked at it, and shook her head slowly

"Duplicus," she breathed, studying the wand motions he had written down.

He'd given her the duplication spell.

"Oh, Severus," she sighed.

* * *

Severus flew toward the full moon as fast as he could, his powerful wings lifting him higher and higher, his breath curling about him in the night air. He raced through the cloud banks as if pursued, feeling thwarted and frustrated. The emotion was even more pronounced in his animal form, the instinct to mate thrumming through his body. He let out a forlorn cry to the moon as if it could answer him and tell him what to do to attract the young woman he desired. Severus Snape the wizard might not actually consider himself to be anything more to Hermione than a lover, but his Gryffin form recognized her and only her as "mate."

This was one of the facets of Snape's Animagus form that Hermione hadn't taken into consideration in her initial outlining of the transformation. If Snape could fly like a gryffin, there had to be other aspects of the animal's nature that also manifested, such as monogamy. Gryffins mated for life and never took on another mate, even after its death. By agreeing to become lovers, and consummating that union, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape were—married by nature. No lack of ceremony or certificate could change that, and neither of them knew.

Yet.

The fever in the gryffin continued to boil as it streaked through the sky, flying over a large open area illuminated by moonlight. The creature looked down and saw movement, several large and small shapes slowly moving across the landscape and something in its brain made it dip and fly downward, coasting silently, not using its wings.

Below, a herd of hinds and fawns moved across a lush heathland, grazing on sweet heather and grasses under the light of the moon. Standing alertly on an outcrop of rocks, keeping watch, was a beautiful reddish brown buck. Its throat and underbelly were paler than its coat, and a set of long, impressive antlers swept backwards, topped by many points. It was a heavy buck, nearly four hundred pounds.

It stood there alertly, its nose scenting the breeze that meandered across the rolling countryside, the beautiful wet eyes scanning the land around it. Sudden a large shadow flitted across the well lit ground and the buck leapt to the moors with a thump, startling the herd before it began to run, leading them away from the threatening shadow.

The scent of fear and thundering of hooves set the gryffin's hunting instinct aflame and Snape landed, racing after the animals, its hard black eyes focused not on the hinds and fawns, oh no, but the beautiful stag leading them away. There was something else in the gryffin, something that targeted that handsome beast, something more than was natural between predator and prey.

The gryffin raced through the herd, the deer parting and swerving aside as it passed through their midst, intently focused on the graceful animal leaping and bounding before it. It leapt, but the stag zigzagged and it missed the kill, soaring past, then turning and bounding after it again, head low and wings folded.

The rest of the herd stood panting under the moonlight, watching the life and death dance before them as the stag fled for its life. Presently, the stag realized the creature pursuing it was no longer behind it. The stag slowly stopped running and turned, scenting the air for the beast. It was as if it had disappeared. But the stag was cautious as it began to trot back toward its herd.

It never heard the gryffin coming as it swooped from above, talons and claws digging into flesh, the beak tearing at the back of the graceful throat, blood geysering as the stag thrashed in agony, the antlers raking the feathered chest before the lethargy of blood loss fell upon it and all pain disappeared.

The gryffin stood over its kill, its pure white feathers and golden beak darkly stained in the moonlight. The herd stood some distance away, milling about in confusion as the scent of blood and death reached them and their patriarch moved no more. The gryffin let out a cry towards the leaderless herd, and it bolted in the other direction. No matter. They would survive, but now—now they would search the skies as well as the heathlands for enemies.

The gryffin looked down at its first kill, elated, the beak slightly watering as the scent of still warm blood and flesh permeated the night. Carefully choosing where to start, it began to feed.

* * *

Snape didn't return, and Hermione spent quite a bit of time reading and making notations from a few of his books, and when it was close to eleven, she packed up and exited his quarters, heading for Gryffindor tower. She had just started up the marble stairwell when the door opened and in walked Severus. Hermione stopped on the stairs and stared at him.

His face was streaked with blood and he carried something rather large tucked under his arm. It was covered with coarse fabric. She walked back down the stairs as he crossed the hall, his dark eyes sober as she approached him. He smelled as if he'd been in a slaughterhouse.

"Severus? What—what happened to you? I smell blood," Hermione said, before seeing his blood streaked face and gasping.

"Have you been hurt?" she asked him.

"No. I've been hunting," he replied.

"Hunting? Oh my gods. As a gryffin?"

Snape nodded.

"You—you ate something? Raw?"

Snape nodded again and Hermione looked at the covered thing under his arm. She pointed at it.

"What is that?" she asked him.

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"A trophy for my wall," he replied, pulling back the fabric and showing her the antlered head of the slaughtered stag.

"It's a stag," she breathed. "Oh, Severus."

"Not the head I would have liked, but it will do, symbolically at least. Now, good night, Hermione," he said, flipping the fabric back over the dismembered head and heading for the dungeon area. Hermione watched as he walked down into the darkness and stood there for a moment.

Had she caused him to kill by denying him?

She turned and slowly walked up the stairs. No, it hadn't been because of her. That was a stag's head and he said it wasn't the one he would have preferred. He had targeted it because it was a stag, like James Potter's Animagus form. It might have been in his gryffin nature to hunt, but there had to be malice as well for him to have saved the head. There was still a lot of unrequited anger in Severus Snape, anger and hatred that would take time to mellow if not be completely removed from his psyche.

Hermione returned to her rooms with mixed emotions. She had never heard of an Animagus actually hunting in its animal form, but then again, Sirius Black had survived on rats in his dog form. She always felt that had been from necessity, since he had nothing else to eat while in hiding. He'd been forced to do it. But Snape had access to a kitchen and plenty of food. He didn't have to hunt.

There was something deliciously dangerous about a wizard that immersed himself in his animal form as much as Snape had done. Hermione felt a bit disturbed that she found this aspect of the dark wizard so—so appealing. It was also rather creepy that he wished he had James Potter's head to mount on his wall and had taken a true stag's head to fill the spot.

Still, she was sure he hadn't planned to go out and kill something. Well, relatively sure. She was going to have to talk to him about it, to document the kill as part of her project. She'd find out more then.

* * *

Lavender spent much of her time during breakfast, lunch and dinner just watching Susan Bones. She was very friendly, talking and laughing with her friends. She seemed to be well-liked, and didn't even act as if she knew she was fat. It didn't help that Ron was constantly looking over at her with puppy-dog eyes and she completely ignored him. Who did she think she was? If Ron were making those kind of eyes at Lavender, she'd acknowledge him immediately.

He'd actually asked her out, and she was making him wait. Why was he waiting? What was so special about her? It couldn't be because he wanted a shag. He knew that Lavender was more that willing to accommodate him, and she was skinnier than Susan, and therefore felt herself to be much more attractive.

By suppertime, almost everyone in Hogwarts with the exception of Hermione and Snape knew that Ronald Weasley had asked out Susan Bones.

A couple of students made the connection immediately, but most of them were in Hufflepuff.

"She cooks. Ron eats. It's really that simple," one Hufflepuff boy said to another. "It's a good match, really. They have something in common."

Of course, there were a few idiots who couldn't see it.

"I should send Weasley a harpoon. It's clear he likes whale-hunting," Draco Malfoy sneered as his housemates cracked up.

"I thought only Eskimos chewed blubber," Blaise added, which caused a new round of guffaws.

Draco and Blaise were lucky Ron didn't hear their comments. Heads might have ended up turned backwards. Ron knew a couple of really good dark spells too, but would only use them when he felt the situation warranted it. This situation would have warranted it.

If Susan did hear any of the snide comments, she didn't act as if she did. In fact, she didn't act any different at all. A few of her friends asked her if the rumor was true, and she admitted Ron did ask her out.

"Why didn't you say yes, Susan?" they all wanted to know.

"I—I wanted to think about it for a week," she replied, covering up the real reason and that was that she thought Ron was just overreacting to a good shag.

Still, they wanted more details and Susan simply told them he'd asked her out after tasting her food and it wasn't anything serious.

When Ginny found out Ron had asked Susan out and the conditions under which it happened, she just shook her head.

"Well, you have to admit she's a good sort. Most witches would have let you ride it out, and not that way," Ginny said to him, smirking a little. "I always knew your greediness would get you in trouble, Ron."

"Yeah? Well, this is the kind of trouble I can deal with," he responded dreamily.

But Ginny liked Susan. She was a very good duelist and hardworking. When they had been in Dumbledore's Army together, she was a slow starter, but once she caught on, she was solid. Just solid. She never gave up. Ron could do a lot worse. Ginny didn't have the skinny girl syndrome because of her mum, who had been as slender as she was in school and had plumped up over the years. Besides, Susan was a far better choice than—ugh—Lavender Brown. Even better than, and she hated to admit this to herself, Hermione. Hermione was her friend, but she and Ron were just too different. They tried to work it out, but it just wasn't there for them. Ron needed a nurturer. He was the kind of wizard that responded to that, and appreciated it. He needed attention. It was just how he was. Susan would probably give him that as she stuffed him full of food.

After doing a bit of baking in the kitchens, Susan left the castle to go for her evening walk before retiring for the night. She did this at least three times a week to stay healthy and fit. And the witch could walk at a good pace, a pace that would tire out a lot of people less heavy than she was. Lavender found this out first hand when she tried to follow her but was soon left far behind. She returned to the castle, still angry about Ron's attraction to the witch.

She'd have to throw a wand in the gears somehow. Ron was meant to be her wizard. It was written in the stars.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. ***


	49. Disclosures

**Chapter 48 ~ Disclosures**

The next day was Saturday and Hermione once again set about cracking the tutorial whip over her fellow students. When it was time for Harry and Ron hour, she found that Ron didn't show up.

"Where is he?" she demanded of Harry as if he had purposely hidden him.

"He's working on his NEWT paper," Harry replied. "Ron feels he doesn't need your help for that."

"He has more than Transfiguration NEWTS to worry about!" Hermione declared, incensed. "He could do that on his own time! Honestly. I could have penciled someone else in if I had known he wasn't going to come. Wait until I see him!"

Poor Harry got the brunt of her wrath as she mentally pummeled him with the hardest questions she could think of, then drew up a schedule of strict study time, including the topics he had to focus on.

"I expect you to do better next session," she said to him as he scampered away with a headache. Hermione could be harsh. She'd see Ron in about an hour for her scheduled free time.

Ron was in the dormitory, indeed studying. He'd received a package that morning and discovered Susan had sent it. It was a pictorial book entitled "More than You Ever Wanted to Know About Orangutans." It contained facts and a great many photos of Orangutans as well as details about their anatomy.

Ron peered at the tiny, almost non-existent penis on one grinning, gap-legged orangutan.

"Bloody hell. You can hardly see it," he breathed, his brow furrowed.

He was glad his form wasn't perfect. That was absolutely embarrassing. Someone would have definitely called him a pea-dick if his attributes were the proper size for his ape form. Yes, great big nads were much better than what nature provided. Female orangutans must be either extremely easy to please or terribly, terribly frustrated.

Ron turned the page and noticed a little red star penciled next to a short paragraph, and a little note in neat handwriting from Susan in the margin.

It read: "You should see if you can do this. It might give you extra points despite the discrepancy in your anatomy."

Ron blinked, read the paragraph, then blanched.

It was about homosexuality in male orangutans. They could retract their penises and make a cavity so another penis could enter. A very convenient ability if an ape swung the other way.

"Oh, hell no!" Ron hissed, slamming the book shut. There were fruity orangutans? Good Grindelows. Apparently, homosexuality was not a crime against nature. It seemed nature actually made accommodation for it, at least with orangutans.

Squicked as he was, it still had been nice of Susan to send him the book. He put it down on the bed and slowly stood up, thinking about the witch's advice. Maybe he should see if he could—arrgh. Ron walked in front of the mirror and changed into his Animagus form. He looked at his huge dangling organ.

"There's no way I can suck this in," he thought to himself. He focused on his lower pelvic muscles, willing them to contract.

He stared at the mirror in ape-ish horror, then started screaming and whooping as he looked at the hole between his thighs. He ran, leapt up and started jumping on his bed, pounding it with his fists.

Harry ran into the room, having heard the ruckus and stared at the orangutan apparently having a temper tantrum.

"Ron! What's wrong with—"

Harry stopped as Ron turned to face him, his eyes dropping to the hole in Ron's loins. His big hairy balls were still there, but his penis was completely gone.

"Ron! Where's your dick?"

The ape whooped, then his cock slowly appeared, pushing out of the hole like a turtle's head slowly appearing from the dark depths of its shell. Harry looked completely disgusted as it flopped down between the ape's legs as impressive as ever.

"Ack! That's . . . that's just unnatural, Ron!" he exclaimed as Ron changed back into human form. "What in the world made you even think about doing that? Ugh."

"It's doubly awful once you know why I can do it," Ron muttered.

"Well, why can you?" Harry asked.

In answer, Ron handed him the orangutan book off the bed.

"Read page 58. The paragraph next to the red star."

Harry flipped through the book, his green eyes shifting from left to right, a grin forming on his face. He looked up at Ron, smiling. Then, he fell over into his bed, dying with laughter, his hands folded between his tightly clasped legs in an attempt not to piss himself.

Ron scowled at him.

"It's not funny, Harry," he said darkly.

This only made Harry laugh harder. Ron could make a pussy in his Animagus form? Oh Merlin.

"It's not that fucking funny, Harry," Ron hissed at him again.

* * *

An hour later, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were at the Quidditch pitch, Hermione browbeating Ron for not showing up to his tutoring sessions. Harry was grinning like the dragon who swallowed all the village virgins. He couldn't wait to spring Ron's newfound ability on Hermione and Ginny. He was just waiting for the right time.

"At least I was studying," Ron said sullenly.

"But you have more to focus on than your Animagus form, Ronald," Hermione told him. "You want to get good marks in everything, not just that! You could work on that during the week. Anytime! Not during your tutoring!"

"All right. All right. I'll show up next time," Ron muttered. "Now, stop badgering me, Hermione! You're like a little dictator or something."

"I am a dictator, at least until you set down for the NEWTS and don't forget it!" she responded, scowling at him. Ginny grinned. They might not be going out, but Hermione was as bossy as ever when it came to Ron.

"Fine," Ron said, wanting to defuse the situation.

"Actually, Hermione, Ron discovered something new about his form," Harry interjected, Ron scowling at him blackly.

"Harry, don't tell her," he hissed but Harry didn't listen.

"What?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Don't tell her," Ron said again, warningly this time. He pulled out his wand.

"He can re—"

"Silencio!"

Harry's mouth worked but his voice was gone.

"Ron!" both Hermione and Ginny yelled at him as Harry pulled out his wand and pressed it against his throat.

"RON CAN RETRACT HIS PENIS AND MAKE A HOLE!" Harry's voice boomed. He'd removed the Silencing spell and invoked the Sonorous spell that amplified his voice.

"Gods damn it, Harry!" Ron yelled, making a grab for him. Harry raced off, pursued by Ron who was firing stunners at the zigzagging wizard. Hermione and Ginny watched them, their mouths open.

"Did Harry just say Ron could suck in his penis?" Hermione asked Ginny to make sure she heard what she heard.

"Yes, I believe he did," a voice purred. Both Hermione and Ginny started as they saw Severus hovering on his broom behind them. "But he didn't just say it. His voice carried across the grounds quite nicely. If that was a secret, it isn't any longer."

Hermione and Ginny looked behind him and indeed, a few interested students were filing into the Quidditch pitch. Ron finally managed to tackle Harry and they began to brawl.

"An interesting ability," Snape said, watching them roll around, grass and dirt flying everywhere. "I wonder what the significance is?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, watching Ron kick Harry in the arse and send him sprawling face first into the grass. "But apparently, Ron didn't want anyone to know about it."

"They're so stupid," Hermione said as Harry put Ron into a choke hold and they both fell to the ground. "Come on, Ginny. Let's break them up before they really hurt each other."

* * *

Lavender saw Susan entering the girl's lavatory on the first floor. She and Parvati were on their way outside to enjoy the day when the blonde witch grabbed her friend by the arm.

"Come on, I want to go to the bathroom," she said, dragging Parvati along.

"But you just went before we left Gryffindor tower," Parvati complained.

"Just come on, and follow my lead. I'm just going to wash my hands."

"Ew," Parvati hissed, looking down at the hand that clutched her arm.

Lavender entered the bathroom and started talking loudly. Susan wasn't visible, which meant she was in a stall.

"Yeah, Parvati. Ron and I must have snogged for more than an hour last night in his room," Lavender said to the surprised witch.

"What? You were snogging Ronald Weasley? I thought he asked Susan Bones out," Parvati said, having no idea what Lavender was up to.

"Oh, yeah. About that. Ron told me he only asked her out so he could get food from her. He's not interested in her outside of that. He said she's too fat for him."

Parvati scowled.

"He said that? That's sounds dirty. Ron doesn't come across like that to me, Lavender. He wouldn't use someone that way."

Lavender frowned at Parvati. She was ruining this.

"Don't you think I know what he told me, Parvati? I'm not making it up," she said loudly. "He doesn't really like Susan. He just wants to take advantage of her cooking. He said he knew she'd say yes because no one wants her, but plans to dump her when school lets out. Then, we're going to go out."

Parvati frowned at her.

"Why would you want to go out with someone like that, Lavender? He's horrible."

"No he's not. Susan should realize she couldn't attract a wizard like Ron under her own steam. She should figure he's after something. She's not the least bit attractive. It's her fault she's so gullible, not Ron's. I don't blame him for taking advantage of her. Stupid is as stupid does."

Lavender finished washing her hands with a smirk, then left the bathroom, followed by a scowling Parvati.

There was a flush, then the last stall opened and Susan emerged, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears as she walked over to the sink and slowly washed her hands. She looked at herself in the mirror, and the unshed tears, shed, streaming down her cheeks as she felt her heart breaking.

Lavender had to be telling the truth. Why else would she have said those things?

Well, she knew what to tell that scheming Ron Weasley the next time she saw him.

To go stuff himself.

* * *

Severus lingered around Hermione as Ron, Harry and Ginny played three-man Quidditch, Ron and Harry jostling each other roughly, and Ginny making points because they were acting so idiotic.

The wizard was leaning on the partition that separated the stands from the pitch, looking up at the three Gryffindors.

"Severus, I want to ask you some questions about what happened last night. About you hunting and killing that stag. I want to document it," she told him.

"I've written it all down for you, Hermione," he responded, not looking at her. "So you can read what happened at your leisure."

"Oh," she said shortly. She had really wanted to talk to him about it. "Did you—mount the stag's head yet?"

Snape nodded.

"I petrified it permanently. It will keep," the wizard said. "It's mounted on the wall above the fireplace. I plan to leave it there when I leave Hogwarts, just like I plan to leave the memory of James Potter behind. It will be my closure."

There was yelling and Hermione pulled out her wand to save Ron as he plummeted toward the earth, having been knocked off his broom by an evilly grinning Harry. He slowed and landed not too gently on his arse, shaking his fist at Harry as his broom dropped a few yards away. Hermione put her wand away and looked at Snape

"You gave me the Duplicus spell," she stated. Snape nodded again.

"Why?"

Now Snape looked at her, his dark eyes sober.

"Because of what you said. I decided you were right and I shouldn't have attempted to manipulate sex out of you. I had already shown you the spell and—and thought I'd just give it to you, to even out the duel a bit and to show you that—that—"

He faltered.

"That what, Severus?" Hermione asked him.

"I don't know," he responded sullenly, mounting his broom and kicking off.

He zoomed up to join Harry, Ginny and Ron, snatching the Quaffle from a surprised Ginny in passing. She pursued him immediately, grabbing at his billowing robes as he flew toward the goal and pitched it through.

"One point for me," he purred at the witch.

"That was dirty Quidditch," Ginny seethed as Ron and Harry chased the Snitch.

Snape just smirked at her and flew off after Ron and Harry, joining the chase.

Ginny hovered, looking at the slowly falling Quaffle, then decided that catching the Snitch would be more fun. She joined the boys.

Hermione watched Snape race around the pitch with her three friends thoughtfully. His giving her the spell was some kind of gesture. It was just the nature of the gesture she wasn't sure about. What did it mean, really?

For a situation that wasn't supposed to be complicated, it certainly was starting to become at least—complex...

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. ***


	50. The Reckoning

**Chapter 49 ~ The Reckoning**

After Harry and Ron worked off their aggression and Snape managed to catch the Snitch twice, all five friends returned to Hogwarts castle. Susan Bones was walking through the entrance hall heading for the kitchens. She had on her chef's hat and apron and carried a small pot with fresh parsley in it. Ron went on point immediately and hurried over just to say hi as his friends watched him.

"Why is Ron going over there?" Hermione asked Harry. They all knew Susan Bones but usually only spoke in passing.

"He's sweet on her and asked her out. He's waiting for her answer," Harry informed her.

"Oh," Hermione said softly. She had mixed feelings as she looked at the witch. Snape's dark eyes shifted toward Hermione for a moment, then back to Ron who nearly skidded to a stop in front of Susan.

"Hi Susan," he said to the witch, who looked back at him stonily and didn't reply.

Ron blinked at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. "You don't mind me saying hi to you, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do mind, Ronald Weasley. You don't ever have to say hi to me again. You don't have to wait for an answer either. It's no," she said to him coldly and tried to walk down the stairs.

Ron ran around her and blocked her path.

"What do you mean no? Why? You told me I could ask you again in a week," he said desperately. "The week isn't even up. Why are you saying no?"

Harry and the rest of his friends stood listening, slightly embarrassed at Ron's desperation. What was wrong with him? She said no. No meant no.

"Ask Lavender."

"What? What's Lavender got to do with anything?"

Susan's eyes teared up.

"Ron, don't play stupid. I know you and Lavender were snogging in your room last night, and that you told her you only asked me out because I'd feed you. She said how you really felt about me."

Ron stared at Susan.

"I didn't snog Lavender last night. I haven't touched her for more than a year. We broke up ages ago, before I even went out with Hermione," he told Susan. "She's lying."

Susan blinked at him.

"Well, why would she lie? She wasn't talking to me. I overheard her talking to Parvati in the first floor bathroom. She didn't even know I was there," Susan said doubtfully. Ron looked so sincere.

"She'd lie to make you say no," Ron said darkly. "She doesn't like the idea of us going out, Susan. She made that clear yesterday morning. She's—she's jealous."

"Of me?"

"Yes, of you—and I'm going to prove it, damn it!"

Ron took the parsley plant out of Susan's hand and caught her firmly by the arm.

"Come on. We're going to get to the bottom of this," he growled, pulling her along and handing the potted plant to Harry as they passed.

"Where—where are we going?" Susan asked him.

"To Gryffindor tower. Come on."

Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Snape watched in silence as Ron quickly walked Susan up the marble stairwell and down the first floor corridor. After a moment, they appeared on the second floor landing and caught a shifting stairwell up.

"Weasley certainly is a take-charge wizard," Snape said softly as Hermione looked up at him.

"He can be," Hermione replied.

"Well, come on. I don't want to miss this!" Ginny exclaimed, running up the staircase, followed by Harry. Hermione stood there, looking after them, her brow slightly furrowed.

Snape studied her.

"A sickle for your thoughts," he said quietly.

Hermione looked at him, unable to voice her feelings about Ron asking Susan Bones out so soon after they'd broken up. Yes, she had shagged Severus, but they only had a loose relationship. Ron was trying to start a completely new committed one. He was trying to get another girlfriend.

"I don't really know what my thoughts are," she said softly.

"Are you jealous?"

"No, not jealous. I don't know what I am," she said.

Snape nodded slightly.

"A little hurt," he said. "Maybe feeling replaced, just a bit—maybe even a little like a failure."

Hermione looked at him with a sad expression.

"Maybe a little," she said, "but, I didn't feel this way until I heard Ron asked Susan out. She's a nice witch, really. A good duelist. It's just a little disconcerting—"

Hermione suddenly realized she was talking to the wizard she'd accepted as a lover about a former boyfriend.

"Oh, Severus. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be talking to you about this—"

"Yes you should. I'm here for everything, Hermione. You might have been busy much of the time you were with Ron, but you did care about him and shared something intimate with him. It would be strange if you didn't have some reaction to seeing him pursue another witch. At least, at least you don't feel hatred like I did when Lily and James—"

Snape stopped speaking suddenly, pain evident in his eyes.

"You're lucky," he said softly. "You and Ronald Weasley are still friends. Be glad for that much. I'm going to go shower. You should go to Gryffindor tower. I think Weasley is going to need your support."

Snape walked away. Hermione couldn't help feeling his isolation as he entered the dungeons, his robes billowing slightly as he descended. It was clear to see that although they were lovers, he still felt very alone.

She sighed and started up the stairs.

* * *

"Lavender! Lavender, open the door," Parvati cried, pounding on the witch's door excitedly. "Ron is in the common room demanding to see you, and Susan's with him."

Lavender, who had been removing her make-up, froze mid-wipe.

"What? He brought Susan here?"

Lavender rose and approached the door, her heart pounding.

"Yes, he wants to talk to you. He's angry, too. What did you do?" Parvati asked through the door.

"Tell him I'm not here!"

"I can't. I already said you were here."

"Tell him you were mistaken."

"Lavender! What did you do?"

"Just tell him I'm busy and I'll talk to him later, then, Parvati. Please."

"All right."

A scowling Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girl's dormitories, his blue eyes glinting with anger. He had Susan firmly by the hand. Harry and Ginny were with him and several other students hung about curiously. Ron had brought Susan into Gryffindor tower. That was highly unusual.

Parvati walked down the stairs.

"I'm sorry Ron, but she said she's too busy right now and will talk to you later."

Ron looked down at Susan, who was quite red. She was embarrassed about being in Gryffindor house and the center of attention.

"Ron, I should go."

"No, you're not going anywhere until we sort this out," he said firmly, then drew his wand and looked at Parvati who was still on the stairs.

"Get off the stairs, Parvati," he said in a dark voice.

Scared she was about to be hexed, Parvati hurried down the staircase and past Ron and Susan.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry asked him worriedly as Ron placed one foot on the lower step. The staircase instantly turned into a slide. He pointed his wand up the stairs and slightly to the right.

"Accio Lavender Brown," he hissed.

"Ron! You can't use that spell on a human being!" Harry cried.

"I can use it on Lavender though," he snarled.

There was a loud shriek, a bump, another shriek and the sound of struggle, then another shriek growing louder as Lavender slid into view then down the slide on her arse, ending up sitting on the floor in front of Ron and Susan. Her hair was tangled and half her make up was still on. She looked a mess.

"Stand up," Ron said to her.

Lavender stood up. Hermione walked into the common room and hurried over to stand next to Harry and Ginny, her eyes wide as she looked at the disheveled witch getting up from the floor.

"Ron! You didn't have any right to—"

"Legilimens!" Ron hissed at her, entering her mind.

Lavender tried to slam down her Occlumency walls but didn't have her wand with her. Ron entered and found out what she had done and said in the girl's bathroom. He pulled out of her mind, absolutely furious.

"I can't believe you, Lavender," he said to her. "I told you I asked Susan out. You knew I liked her."

Ron turned to Susan and took both her hands in his.

"Susan, listen. Lavender saw you go into the bathroom, followed you and said those things so you wouldn't go out with me. It's all lies. I didn't snog her last night, and I certainly didn't say I wanted to be with you just because of your cooking. Susan, I think you are an awesome witch, the most awesome witch I've ever met—"

Both Lavender and Hermione had a small reaction to Ron's very public statement.

"You're smart. You're kind and you're absolutely beautiful. And yes, you can cook and that's a big plus, but not the only perk. I really like you and want to get to know you better. Don't let Lavender's lies ruin our chances. I think you're special and I don't care who knows it or who likes it. Go out with me, please."

Susan blinked up at him, then slowly looked around at everyone staring at her. Hermione had a strange expression on her face. Ron had never spoken to her that passionately, although he did once tell her she was the most awesome witch he knew.

But that was before Susan.

Lavender stood there, frowning. She couldn't believe this. Ron was begging this fat cow to go out with him. What was wrong with him? Hermione's eyes cut toward Lavender, who made an ugly face and started to say something. It was going to be incredibly cruel, Hermione knew it.

She pulled out her wand and made a quick horizontal slashing motion at Lavender, sealing her lips so she couldn't say anything and ruin Ron's moment. He might be asking another witch out in front of her, but he was still one of her best friends.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Lavender protested, gesturing at her mouth frantically. Everyone ignored her. She ran back up the stairs, red-faced and embarrassed. She ran to her room, found her wand and removed the spell. Shit, that hadn't worked out well at all.

Susan looked up at Ron, her brown eyes glistening. He had said all of those sweet things in front of everyone without the slightest embarrassment and was looking at her so hopefully, her heart just went out to him. No one had ever told her she was beautiful before, or pleaded with her.

So, with everyone in Gryffindor house watching she said, "All right, Ron. I'll go out with you."

Ron let out a whoop, grabbed Susan and easily swung her around, everyone scrambling to get out of the way. He put her down and snogged her soundly as everyone looked on. It was easy to see that he really liked her and the feeling was mutual.

"Yes!" Ron breathed, smiling down at her happily when he broke the kiss. "Yes!"

Susan was bright red as she shyly smiled back at him, fixing her chef's hat. It had nearly been lost in the spin.

"Come on," Ron said, taking her by the hand and plucking her parsley plant out of Harry's hands. "Let's go down to the kitchens. I'm starving."

Everyone watched as Ron led her toward the common room exit.

"Bye," Susan called back to the students, not wanting to be rude as Ron marched her away.

"Bye," they called back, then immediately fell to talking about what they'd witnessed. Several of the witches couldn't believe how—how romantic it all was.

"Well, it looks like Ron's found himself a new girlfriend," Harry said, then looked apologetically at Hermione. "Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione."

She waved her hand at him.

"It's all right, Harry. It's clear he's happy, and I want him to be happy."

"You're a good friend, Hermione."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll be happy in a minute or two," Ginny said with narrowed brown eyes as she stalked up the stairs and turned in the direction of Lavender's room.

"Ginny! No!" Harry cried, starting up the stairs after Ginny. Of course they turned into a slide and he stumbled back down. He looked at Hermione desperately.

"Hermione! Go after her! She's going to hex Lavender, I know she is!"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I don't think I will, Harry. If I go up there, I'll probably help her," Hermione replied with a small smile. "Anyway, I've got to go. It's study time."

"All right," Harry said, blinking up the stairs worriedly.

There was a shout, then a shriek, followed by muffled swearing as Ginny reappeared on the landing and started back down it. Cries of "Ew! Oh gods! Arrrgh!" rang out behind her.

Harry shook his head as Ginny descended.

"Bat Bogies?" he asked his girlfriend when she reached him.

"Right in one," Ginny replied. "Now, let's go to supper."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	51. Seeking Severus, Finding Trouble

**Chapter 50 ~ Seeking Severus, Finding Trouble**

Hermione entered Snape's quarters to find him standing in the middle of the room, looking at her soberly.

"How did it go with Weasley?" he asked her quietly as she set her knapsack on the floor.

"He's fine. Lavender tried to sabotage him," Hermione replied. "But he got to the bottom of it. He and Susan are going out now."

"I see. So he's found another girlfriend."

"Yes."

Hermione sat down in her chair and pulled out her books. She opened the Advanced Arithmancy book.

"I'm going to work on Arithmancy first," she informed him.

Snape didn't approach the desk and she looked over at him.

"I said I'm going to work on Arithmancy first. Come and sit down."

Snape shook his head.

"I understand it now, Hermione. I can work the problems, pen the equations, apply them and do the conversions. You've taught me well. Thank you."

Hermione felt a little twinge inside. He didn't need to study with her any longer?

"But, you are welcome to continue to study here and access my books if you choose to do so," he said softly. "That was what we agreed to after all."

"Thank you," she said softly, but feeling out of sorts. It was as if he didn't need her any longer.

Snape walked over to the desk, reached into a cubbyhole and pulled out a folder and gently placed it next to her books.

"That is my description of what happened last night and how I took down the stag," the wizard told her as Hermione slid the folder over and opened it. "You'll find everything there."

"Thank you," she said again.

Snape nodded.

"I'll leave you to your studies, then," he said, turning and walking toward the door.

Hermione turned in her seat.

"Wait. Where are you going?" she asked him.

"Flying," he said shortly, not looking back at her.

"Wait. Severus, are you avoiding me?"

He didn't answer.

"Are you?" Hermione demanded.

Snape let out a sigh.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He turned to look at her.

"Because I don't want to pressure you, Hermione. When we became lovers it was with the intentions we would give each other space and not interfere with the other's focus. I—I thought it would be a simple matter to just shag when it was amenable to you—I thought I could be satisfied with that. I don't know what's wrong with me—"

"It's become complicated," Hermione said softly.

"Yes. I don't want to be another Ronald Weasley," Snape replied. "I understand what it is you want and what you have to sacrifice to achieve it. But understanding it doesn't make it any easier. Perhaps if I had gotten my fill of you instead of one encounter—I wouldn't feel like this."

"Feel like what?"

"Envious of Weasley," Snape said softly. "He didn't settle for what he could get. He went after exactly what he wanted when he couldn't find it in you."

That wasn't exactly what happened with Ron, but to the uninformed it seemed he had just hopped right back in the saddle.

Hermione didn't say anything and Snape tried to elaborate more.

"You see, Hermione, I was attracted to you and I didn't want to make the same mistake I made with Lily, not that it would have made any difference if I told her how I felt, what I wanted. I thought that since we are both driven people, a bit of casual intimacy would suit us both. We could maintain our independence that way but still find pleasure in each other. Companionship. But it's not working out that way, at least not for me. You seem fine with this, and I want you to be. That was my intention. But I didn't expect—I didn't know—"

Snape looked at her, the expression on his face miserable as he struggled to find the right words to express what he felt inside. As if—as if he really needed her. They had only shagged once but he felt as if—if she belonged to him. That was stupid. No one belonged to anyone, especially because they had a single shag. He'd sound like a smitten fool if he told her that. A weak, smitten fool.

"I'm just going to stick to our arrangement," he said gruffly. "I'll be here when you need me. All you have to do is say you need me. It's all on you. Everything. Now, I'm going."

He quickly exited his quarters, the wall sliding down behind him as Hermione stared after him. She sat there for a minute, then tried to work on her Arithmancy. This was his issue after all, not hers. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself as she made error after error in her calculations. Finally, she set her pencil down with a sigh.

She couldn't work like this. Severus was suffering and she knew it. But, it was simply a matter of him wanting more sex. Other wizards went through the same thing, although she doubted they were as dramatic as Severus was. But he wasn't the cold wizard of his later years now. He was young and had feelings. Apparently, strong ones. He wasn't used to this at all.

He envied Ron? Why? It could only be because Ron had a girlfriend. But Severus made it clear he wasn't looking for a girlfriend, but a lover.

Hermione frowned a bit. No, he had said she needed a lover and he was willing to be that for her. He never once said what it was he really wanted. It was then Hermione realized that Severus was the one who had settled. He took what he could get rather than what he wanted. Some semblance of being cared for, of being wanted, even if for a few, brief passionate moments in another person's arms.

Snape had lived without love for most of his young life, and despite this change in his situation, he still lived without love. Sadness washed over Hermione. She had always known love, from her family, from her friends, even from Ron for a few brief months. All Severus had ever known was longing and pain. Yes, she gave him a night of passion, well maybe an hour of passion, but then—she'd left him and gave him little acknowledgement as to how affecting he had been. That was the way it was supposed to be, logically, but more than logic was involved here. Possibly, his heart was involved too.

Could he be in love? No. That was silly. People didn't just fall in love that way. The sex had been good, but it didn't bind them to—

Hermione suddenly had a startling thought. Oh dear gods. Why hadn't she thought about that before!

Severus was a gryffin in his Animagus form, and had the attributes of the animal.

Gryffins mated for life.

"Oh, no," Hermione breathed, putting away her books and leaving his quarters quickly. No wonder he was so torn. He was in love—with her. She wasn't sure that was the case, but she would have to find out.

She hurried up the dungeon corridor, across the entrance hall and out onto the grounds.

She had to find him.

* * *

Snape was in the Forbidden Forest, in the clearing where he first practiced flying under Hermione's watchful eye. He wasn't in his Animagus form, but seated cross-legged on the ground before a small bonfire, sullenly poking a stick into the flames as he thought about Hermione and how whipped he was.

Another Gryffindor witch had him by the nads. Hermione was better than Lily however, she did return his affections on a physical level, and she did care about him as a person. She'd proven that. She was just so damn driven. He thought he could deal with her preoccupation, but right now—he felt miserable. Maybe if she'd just let him work her out of his system with more intimate contact, he could control how he felt, get used to it.

But that was unlikely to happen. She was just too busy to devote much time to him. It was the Ron situation all over again, although Snape was sure he was nothing like Weasley. He thought he could maintain a casual relationship as long as he got laid now and then. He hadn't thought about the emotions and the connection he'd feel. He had no way of knowing. Hermione had been his first and despite how callous other wizards had appeared when they shagged and ran, it was clear that he just wasn't cut from the same cloth. He wasn't satisfied with one encounter with Hermione. He wanted more—and only with her.

He was aware he could probably shag other witches at Hogwarts. He was in a much better position this time to attract them. He was an Animagus, had money, prospects, a nice wardrobe and was famous. All the components necessary to catch an airhead or two. But he wasn't interested in airheads or easy shags. The only witch he was interested in was Hermione.

It felt as if she'd always be the only one. His attraction to Lily had lessened dramatically over the past few weeks, although the pain was still there when he thought about her and James. Still, after having sex with Hermione it was as if Lily had faded completely to the background, the longing for her practically gone. He never thought any witch could replace her in his heart. But one did. One very focused, headstrong and brilliant witch.

Snape poked the fire again, his black eyes reflecting the flickering light. He felt so out of sorts. He couldn't even articulate what he felt to Hermione. It would go against everything else he had said. She wasn't going to change to suit him. He knew that. She wouldn't change for Weasley, so what chance did he have? He was in the same position as Ron had been, on the backburner. He thought he'd be able to handle it; he was so used to being alone. But intimacy with Hermione only made him desire companionship more. It wasn't something he could just push out of his mind.

He hadn't yet made the connection between his gryffin tendencies and human ones. He didn't know that Hermione Granger was the only witch for him now, and would be for the rest of his days, whether they ended up together or not. She might become his new, unattainable Lily. Would destiny send him down that same dark road? Some believe there is no thwarting Fate. Maybe it was meant for him to pine after a woman all his life.

Suddenly, he stiffened, twisting his head, his ears shifting slightly as he heard Hermione calling him as she entered the Forbidden Forest on foot. That was never a good idea. The Forbidden Forest was a dangerous place to navigate alone and contained quite a few deadly animals. If a wizard or witch saw them coming, usually they could hex them off.

But you had to see them coming. They shied away from fire, so Snape was safe, but Hermione could make a nice snack for some stealthy beastie.

The wizard quickly turned into his gryffin form and entered the forest to find Hermione.

* * *

"Severus? Are you in here?" Hermione called, threading her way between the trees, her wand drawn and tip lit. Clicks, croaks, peeps and other sounds of the forest surrounded her. That was fine. As long as there were night noises, nothing dangerous was around. It was when everything went silent that one had to worry.

"Severus!" she called again.

Suddenly, everything went quiet.

"Uh, oh," Hermione breathed, putting out her wand and backing up against a tree.

This wasn't good. She listened carefully and heard a crunch come from her right.

Without hesitation, she fired a blast between the trees in that direction and heard more frenzied crunching, this time to her left. She fired another blast and still the crunching approached from yet another direction. Whatever was out there, there was more than one. She tried to think of creatures that hunted in groups. Thestrals, although the only Thestrals on the Hogwarts grounds were relatively domesticated and were fed by Hagrid.

Gods. It could be Chimeras. Chimeras were ugly blighters, monsters with a lion's head in front, a goat's head in the middle and a snake for a tail. They were as large as lions in size, and not that easy to kill since they were technically immortal. As long as one head survived, the others could regenerate quickly. There was always more than one when they hunted.

She hoped it wasn't Chimeras. She looked up at the tree she was under. There was a low branch, but it was still out of reach. If she had time she could blast some holes in the trunk and use them to climb up, but she might be attacked before then. Shit. Well, she could always use the Killing curse. That could take out a Chimera, as long as the others didn't attack while she focused on one.

Suddenly Hermione was hoisted up into the air by the back of her robes, her wand pinned against her side. She shrieked.

Snape heard her and charged through the forest in the direction of the anguished cry, ready to kill.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	52. To the Rescue

**Chapter 51 ~ To the Rescue**

"Here now. Stop struggling, Hermione Granger," Magorian, the leader of the centaurs said gruffly, setting the witch on his back. Behind him stood Ronan, the ever-glowering Bane and several other centaurs. They all carried bows and quivers of arrows.

"Magorian?" the witch said, breathless and relieved.

"Aye. It's me, witch. What are you doing in our forest alone?"

"I—I was looking for a friend."

"A likely story," Bane growled, scowling at Hermione.

"Now Bane. That's no way to speak to the witch that gave you such a pretty prize. Umbridge, I believe," Magorian scolded him, his lips quirking as he reminded the centaur of the toad-like witch he had carried off and been stuck with for days.

Bane snorted.

"You should have let me nock an arrow into her fat forehead," Bane said bad-naturedly as the other centaurs chuckled. "What a pain in the arse she was. I was glad when Dumbledore came and got her. Bloody banshee."

Magorian addressed Hermione.

"I suppose you are looking for young Severus Snape," the centaur said.

"Why—why yes I am. How did you know?" she asked him, surprised.

"Little goes on in the forest that we don't know about," he replied. "We will take you to him. He is in a clearing about half a mile from here."

Magorian began to walk, Hermione resting her hands on his waist. The other centaurs followed, Bane grumbling about Magorian acting as a pack animal for a human.

Suddenly there was an enraged squawk and a white gryffin leapt out from between the trees in front of Magorian, crouching as if to attack him. The centaurs all immediately drew their bows and nocked their arrows.

"No! Don't hurt him. That's Severus!" Hermione cried as the gryffin squawked a challenge. "Severus! Don't! They aren't hurting me!"

The gryffin slowly rose, eyeing the centaurs, who had their weapons trained on him. He squawked again.

"Let me down, please," Hermione said.

Magorian helped her off his back and she approached Severus, petting his ruffled head feathers until they fell back sleekly. The centaurs lowered their bows.

"That is quite the Animagus form," Magorian said. "The others, who were here years ago, Potter and his friends all had common forms. They used to gambol through the trees with the werewolf. Allow me to see your human form, Severus Snape."

Suddenly the gryffin was gone and Snape stood before them, eyeing the centaurs. He had never seen them before.

Magorian studied him. He had known Snape as a mature wizard.

"It's just as the stars predicted," he said softly. "After the final battle, the noble scales would thwart an undeserved destiny and loop around time."

"But, that was supposed to mean the scales of justice, that we would regain our rightful place as in the old times when we were revered," Bane hissed as Magorian shook his head.

"Interpretations can be in error. As much as I would have liked that version, Bane, it is clear the scales were that of a snake, or—a Slytherin. But possibly, justice is involved—another kind of justice that gives an ill-treated but noble soul another chance."

Snape said nothing as he looked at the centaurs.

"You were a brave wizard in your older years, Severus Snape, and you once provided me with phoenix tears when I was terribly wounded by several Chimeras and there were no unicorns to be found. I hope that life is kinder to you this time around. Be careful in the forest, both of you."

With that, Magorian led the centaurs back between the trees.

"Thank you!" Hermione called after them, then looked at Severus.

"You nearly got yourself killed," she scolded him. "Imagine, facing off with a herd of armed centaurs. Are you insane?"

"Lately—I wonder about that myself," he said shortly. "Let's get back to the clearing. I left a fire burning."

He turned back into his gryffin form, this time the saddle appearing on his back. Hermione wondered at this ability as she climbed on. He didn't have it when he leapt out of the woods. Maybe it only appeared when it was needed. Very interesting.

Snape hurried back to the clearing, but nothing had caught fire and the flame was very low. Hermione dismounted and he changed back to human form, silently walking over to the small fire and adding more wood as Hermione watched him.

Snape watched the flames catch the wood, staring down at the growing fire. Hermione slowly walked up and stood next to him.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"I thought about something when you left the castle, something—important. About you."

"What?"

"Your Animagus form is a gryffin. Gryffins—"

Hermione stopped talking and Snape looked at her.

"What about gryffins?"

"They—they form—ah—strong attachments. Lifelong attachments," she said to him. "You—you may have bound yourself to me the other night, when we—you know—"

"Shagged?"

Hermione colored.

"Yes."

Snape looked back at the fire. He swallowed several times before he spoke again.

"And what does that mean to you, Hermione? If I did bind myself to you, it doesn't mean that much. We're only lovers and have a loose association based on your availability and needs. There are no obligations between us. No commitment."

"No, there aren't any obligations or commitments between us, that's true, Severus. But, I just want you to know, I didn't mean for this to happen. I should have thought about it longer, gave it more consideration—thought about you."

"Of course you didn't mean for it to happen. You're not interested in love, Hermione. That's my curse. I'm attracted to witches who don't have the capacity to love me."

Hermione frowned at him.

"Now don't start wallowing in self-pity. We can handle this, I'm sure."

"The only thing I'll be handling is my cock while I wank off in frustration," he replied, frowning at the flames. "It'll be months before you let me touch you again. You have no free time for me—"

Hermione gave him a little smile.

"Well, I'm not studying right now, am I?" she asked him.

Snape looked at her again, surprised.

"Listen, since we're in this situation and it's not your fault, it's clear that you're going to need more time with me or you're going to be miserable. You might even start molting in your gryffin form. When birds sulk, they can lose their feathers you know," she said softly, Snape's eyes growing more hopeful. "I have a feeling a featherless gryffin isn't very attractive, and I don't want to be blamed for that.

"So, I can do this. I'm two weeks ahead in my studies and work. I can take off on Sunday nights to make time for—non-academic activities. For your upkeep, of course, until we sit for the NEWTS—"

Snape stared at Hermione in disbelief. She was making time for him. It was scheduled time, but so what? Sunday nights would be nookie nights! He wanted to ask what about after the NEWTS, but didn't want to press his luck. He moved into her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How about tonight?" he breathed down at her, smiling now.

She shook her head.

"No, that would be a two-fer since tomorrow is Sunday. Tonight, how about we just go flying?"

"A kiss then? A real one. I want to taste you," he said softly. His heart was swelling in his chest. Hermione wasn't completely selfish. Thank the gods.

"ONE kiss," she admonished him.

Snape covered her mouth with his own, both witch and wizard losing themselves in the sweetness of their short, delicious exploration. Warmth rose up Hermione's body like mercury in a thermometer, but she fought it back. Gods, he was heady.

Snape broke the kiss, his black eyes heated as he looked down at her.

"I can't wait until tomorrow night," he breathed at her.

"Well, you're going to have to wait," Hermione said firmly, pulling back from him until he released her. But he was smiling. It seemed he hadn't really smiled in forever. He turned into the gryffin and crouched so she could mount him.

As Snape ran and leapt into the air, he couldn't help thinking he'd like Hermione to mount him when he wasn't in his Animagus form.

* * *

Severus took Hermione to the spot where he had brought down the stag. The moon was still bright although moving into the waning stages. There was nothing left of headless carcass but bones, only a scrap of flesh here and there.

"Scavengers," Snape said as they stood looking down at the carcass.

"It was big," Hermione observed.

"Yes, it was," Snape agreed. "And delicious."

"Ew," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose up at him. Then she asked, "I know you wrote it down for me, Severus, but what was it like to—to kill like that?"

Snape looked thoughtful.

"It's not like killing a person. When I saw the stag leap down and run I was compelled to chase it. All those fleeing bodies and thundering hooves and the scent of fear—it was like—like a potion or drug, Hermione. The chase—my gods I felt so free, so energized—"

Hermione stared at the wizard as his eyes went almost dreamlike.

"And then I leapt and missed—I could hear its heart beating like a drum calling me to follow, and I followed racing after it—then I went airborne—"

Snape dramatically spread his robes like wings, getting into the tale. Hermione was mesmerized.

"I was quiet, gliding after it, making hardly a sound. I went up high and it kept running until it realized I wasn't behind it. Then it slowed—and turned back toward the herd. And that was when I dropped—"

Snape quickly crouched, bringing his robes together as if he clasped something in his wings. He stood up again.

"It wasn't like a living thing, Hermione, the stag—it was, it was just food. Something for sustenance that had to be stilled, and it was exciting to still it. It wasn't like killing—the life was just—something extra that had to be removed to prepare it. Like—like dicing tomatoes for a salad—"

Hermione cringed a little at the description but she was still fascinated.

"There wasn't any guilt at taking its life. It just seemed right to do—to make it still so I could eat. But once I stilled it, I came back to myself and decided to keep the head as a prize."

"Did you think of James?" she asked him.

"No. Well, not really. I was aware that it was his form, but I became interested in the herd itself while flying over it. It was when the stag appeared that I began to hunt. But knowing I could have killed James like I killed that stag was a nice thought."

"A nice thought. You still have a lot of issues, Severus," Hermione said, shaking her head.

Snape shrugged.

"They targeted me for years. It's probably going to take years to let it all go. At least I have you," he said, smiling at her as she blushed. "You're much nicer to think about than James bloody Potter."

"I'm glad I serve some purpose," she told him blithely. He sobered.

"You do more than serve a purpose, Hermione, believe me," he said softly. "You make me feel whole."

Hermione blushed again under his intense gaze.

"Let's get back to the castle," she told him.

"As you wish," he replied, turning back into the gryffin and crouching.

As they flew back towards the castle, Hermione tapped the gryffin on the neck. It turned it's head around backwards to look at her, gliding.

"You can skip all the flowers this time," she said to him. "I had petals stuck to my arse last time. They must have fell into the bed while we were—"

Hermione didn't finish.

"Squawww?" the gryffin offered.

"Yeah, Squawww," Hermione said with a smile. The gryffin made a chuckling noise as Hogwarts rose into view.

* * *

A/N: I couldn't leave y'all wondering what the hell happened to Hermione. :) Plus, it was the perfect opportunity to put the title of the story into the story. I like to do that if I can. Thanks for reading. ***


	53. A Bit of Prep

**Chapter 52 ~ A Bit of Prep**

Madame Pince was surprised to see Hermione in the library so early on a Sunday morning. She usually didn't come around until the evenings on the weekends because of her tutoring obligations, and lately, she hadn't come at all. The librarian didn't know she had access to a far more interesting library down in the dungeons.

Still the witch was in the Restricted Section, and she was taking quite a bit of time in there. Normally she was in and out within five minutes.

Hermione skulked around the Restricted Section, trying to look as if she were just browsing about, wandering through the aisles. She passed the "adult reference" section several times, drumming up the courage to take out the book, "His Erotic Zones: Pleasuring the Male Anatomy."

Well, one thing would be clear when she checked that book out. Her studying had absolutely nothing to do with the NEWTS. Hermione wished it came with a plain, parchment cover, so Madam Pince wouldn't see the title. She couldn't smuggle it out. It would trigger alarms and she'd be banned from the library.

Gods, if only Madam Pince was a few centuries younger.

Well she was only in her late seventies, but she seemed especially old this morning, probably because Hermione felt it must have been ages since the librarian had sex of any sort. Hermione would have been surprised and rather squicked to know that the rejuvenated Filch was giving Madam Pince squib juice quite regularly now that his bones and boning abilities were in order. And they still had to use protection. Witches were fertile well past one hundred in most cases.

In fact, Irma, that was her name, had just had her toes nicely curled the night before by the caretaker, so when Hermione plunked the book down, open to the back so Irma could stamp it, she did so, then closed the cover and smiled.

"It's a very informative book. You'll get a few good pointers from that one," she said simply, handing it to a stunned Hermione, who had been looking at the floor as if something interesting was down there.

Madam Pince smirked naughtily at the expression on Hermione's face, and suddenly didn't look her age.

"What? Just because there's snow on the castle turrets, Miss Granger, doesn't mean there's not a roaring fire burning in the hearth below."

Hermione just blinked at her, murmured a "thank you" and hurried out of the library.

Arrgh. Madam Pince having sex. Not an image Hermione cared to carry with her.

Clutching her book to her chest, Hermione hurried to Gryffindor tower, passing students on their way down to breakfast. Harry, Ron and Ginny saw her. Ron was carrying a little wicker basket in his hand.

"Hey, Hermione!" they called, but she turned bright red, threw one hand at them in greeting and scurried up the next shifting landing. They all looked after her.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked, puzzled.

Ron shrugged.

"She probably found some dusty old book that no one's checked out in years," Ron said knowledgably. "She loves that and spends hours looking for information no one's looked at in years. Now come on. I have to get some food and collect Susan from Hufflepuff house. We're having breakfast outside. Want to join us? We're going to walk by the lake."

"Sure," Harry and Ginny said together. Sharing Sunday breakfast by the lake sounded nice.

"Let's go then," Ron said, picking up the pace a little.

Hermione hurried through the common room, up the stairs and rushed into her room, closing the door behind her. She put the book down on the bed, removed her robes and got comfortable. She climbed into her bed and lay on her stomach, opening the book on her pillows and began reading.

The book was quite—candid and had hand-drawn illustrations that moved when focused on.

Wow.

Hermione turned the book this way and that, her face bright pink most of the time as she absorbed the material. Severus wasn't going to be the only one with new tricks. Hermione felt knots forming in her belly just thinking about doing some of the things in this book to Severus. How would he react?

She hoped he'd bathed well or she'd have to send him to the shower before they got started. But he had been squeaky clean last time, when she had just simply come to him after class. He didn't seem to mind it at all the way he went at her. She had no way of knowing that Snape enjoyed her natural scent and taste rather than that of soap and perfume.

Hermione went to a page called "The Short List of Stimulation" that gave the basics actions necessary to drive a man wild in a numbered list. It read as follows:

1. Hold of the scrotum with your whole hand and massage it gently with gripping movements.

2. Stimulate the testicles with gentle rolling movements of your fingers.

3. Tickle the scrotal skin with your finger tips.

4. A part of the penis is hidden partly inside and partly behind the scrotal sack. Palpitate your fingertips between the testicles or at the side under the scrotum and massage this part of the penis.

5. Take hold of his breast with your whole hand and massage gently with gripping movements.

6. Massage gently around the nipples with a finger tip.

7. Squeeze the nipples with your fingers, varying from gentle nip to harder pressure.

8. The parts between his legs will engorge when sexually excited and bulges outward. Stimulate this area by squeezing it between your fingers, pressing down against the urethra or massaging up and down along the urethra, switching between gentle and harder handling.

9. Stimulate the navel by sticking a finger into it and tickling, alternating between light, gentle, slow tickling, and harder sharper tickling.

10. Stimulate the groove between the navel and the penis by massaging up and down with the tip of your fingers.

11. Move your fingers up and down between the buttocks from the spine to the opposite end.

12. Gently massage the inner side of each buttock with your fingertips.

13. Tickle the region deep inside the cleft very near the anus with your fingertips.

After that came instructions for rectal stimulation and prostate massage, but Hermione felt she'd skip that portion, probably the buttocks entirely. It sounded as if she'd need some protective hand wear to explore that much. Ah—no..

She then read a detailed section on fellatio, or the art of sucking a man's penis. There were a lot of techniques. Deepthroating was an acquired skill that took time to perfect, but there were easier methods of mouth massage that were possible even for novices. Suction was important, but gentle suction and being careful with the teeth. But teeth could be used to nibble on the glans (head) shaft, and scrotum.

Hermione imagined part of the pleasure men felt had to be related to the fear factor of possibly being bitten down there. The tongue was important too, licking and tickling an important part of its usage. The lips could also be used for massage. Apparently, sucking a cock properly required more than just sticking it into your mouth and drawing in.

There was also a section on hand massage. Lubrication and gentleness was also very important. You weren't supposed to just grab it and start jerking. Actually a penis could take a little roughness no matter how it was handled, but it shouldn't be pure roughness.

Hermione read on, fascinated by all the things she could do to Severus. A tongue tip could be substituted for a fingertip and a mouth could be substituted for a cupped hand. Feet, breasts, buttocks, almost every body part could be engaged in giving sexual pleasure.

Everything was just so—so interchangeable. The possibilities for rocking Snape's world appeared to be endless.

Hermione really felt she needed to step up to the plate. Severus was so good that she needed to be just as good, if only for her ego. She had loved what he did to her, but she didn't want to just lie there and be pleasured, no matter how good it felt. Well, not the entire time, anyway. It was just too passive, and Hermione wasn't the least bit passive.

It was as if during the last encounter Severus had all the power, and Hermione had real power issues. No one was the boss of her, not even a sexually talented snarky young and recently youthened wizard who could make her cross-eyed. Severus' toe-curling abilities needed competition. His feet needed to crack a few joints as well under her ministrations.

Hermione was a sexual being too. She knew she could aggressively make him feel pleasure and didn't intend to be outdone. Plus, Severus had read those books and was probably intending on bedding her with no holds barred. Well, Mr. Lover, she wasn't about to be left behind. Besides, if she gave him a good solid experience, he might not feel everything was as one-sided as it appeared to be. And maybe he wouldn't pout between "sessions."

Hermione smirked at this thought. When Snape was an adult wizard, she could have never imagined him pouting over anything. Maybe blasting something to bits, but not pouting. Well, that perception had been permanently changed.

Hermione stood up, walked over to her dresser, opened the middle drawer and pulled out a short white silk nightgown. She held it up and studied it, then retrieved her wand. She pointed at it and murmured a spell.

It turned Slytherin green and a bit translucent. She held it up against her body in the mirror and smiled crookedly.

Yes, tonight's encounter would be much different than the first one.

Mama had skills.

Or would have if she applied what she'd learned from the short list.

Severus Snape was in for quite a surprise.

* * *

Severus had been hitting the books himself. When Hermione didn't show up at lunch for her usual studies, he became very, very excited. It wasn't like her to skip her studies. Maybe, maybe she was staying away to make tonight even more special.

He could live with that.

Snape was glad he had his own quarters and didn't have to go out into student population, because he'd been sporting wood ever since he'd awakened that morning. His usual morning erection was enormous, even bigger than it was the first night he was with Hermione.

"Is it still growing?" he wondered to himself as he pissed, pulling back the foreskin. It was so thick and long, but not as red as the first time. He furrowed his brow at it as he shook it off. Maybe usage made a cock bigger, like muscles grew larger from exercise. But damn, he'd only used it on a witch once. If this kept up, his tool could be registered as a deadly weapon, once he learned how to use it properly.

He smirked at the thought of it. According to the books he'd read, there were three main types of strokes a man used on a woman in combinations. There was the Thrust, when the whole body was involved, the Pump, where only the pelvis moved, and finally the Whirl, when the penis was fully inserted and the hips rolled to change its angle inside the witch. Mixing these movements up provided a variety of sensations for both partners. He intended to use them all tonight.

He also wanted to shag Hermione face to face. There were a number of very dominant ways to keep her legs spread and locked in place. Either he could do it, or position her so she did it. He wondered if she was able to wrap her ankles behind her head.

Snape placed his dinner order early although he wasn't sure what time Hermione would arrive. He hoped at least by six-thirty or seven. That would give them four hours together. He didn't plan on wasting a minute if he could help it. The meal was more nutritious this time and had three courses. A simple salad for an appetizer, chicken, potatoes and vegetables for a main course, and a slice of elderberry pie for dessert. He even ordered a sweet white wine, but had milk and pumpkin juice just in case. He had a little round table set up with a Slytherin green tablecloth, cloth napkins, real silverware and a little candelabra. He didn't do flowers this time as she requested. He hoped everything would be nice enough. He wanted her to know he'd made an effort.

He spent the rest of the day reviewing and exercising his floor muscles, determined to make an even better showing than last time. Hermione Granger would not regret the allowances she'd made for him. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

At seven o'clock the wall to Snape's quarters slid up, and Hermione entered. Snape popped up from the armchair and hurried over to her. He stopped and stared at her. Her hair was shiny and curling. She wore loose fitting robes and smelled slightly of jasmine and desire. He looked down at her feet. She was wearing trainers.

"Hello Severus," she said softly as he pulled the torch, lowering the wall quickly as if she'd try to escape him.

"Hi," he said rather thickly. "You look very pretty. Your hair isn't bushy."

"No. I worked on it. It takes a lot of work to make it look like this," she told him.

"It's nice," he said, then an awkward silence followed. He cleared his throat and caught her arm gently, walking her toward the table.

"Have a seat, and I'll have the House Elves bring the appetizer," Snape said, pulling out her chair and helping her to sit down. Hermione looked at the cloth napkins, silverware, wineglasses and candelabra with a smile.

"This is very nice, Severus," she said, and the wizard beamed at her for a moment before turning, going to the fireplace and throwing in some Floo powder. He ordered the appetizer and joined her at the table.

"Our meals going to be more—adult," he said quietly. "A salad, entrée and dessert. I ordered wine too. But there'll be milk and pumpkin juice."

"That sounds wonderful, Severus. You've gone through a lot of trouble."

"It's no trouble, Hermione. I just want—I just want you to be pleased," he said, his eyes searching her face.

"I'm very pleased, Severus. It's quite romantic to be honest. So—adult."

"We are adults, Hermione. Just young ones. But, I'm going to learn all about etiquette, wines. music and romantic gestures. Just give me a bit of time and I'll be the most romantic wizard you've ever met. Not cheesy romantic either. Truly romantic, like a lover is supposed to be. You'll have fine meals and—whatever you want—"

Hermione looked down at her plate, suddenly feeling very shy as Snape declared his intentions.

"Let's eat, Severus," she said softly.

* * *

A/N: And the night begins. :) Informative little chappie,. Eh? Almost like a little primer for driving men wild. Lol. Just one of the side benefits. Feel free to test them out, ladies. Of course, I'll want details Thanks for reading. ***


	54. Sweetest Torment

**Chapter 53 ~ Sweetest Torment**

The couple ate their salads in slightly awkward silence. They were simple salads only consisting of lettuce and tomatoes. Snape didn't know what Hermione liked in her salad, so went with the basics. She seemed to enjoy it.

A House Elf appeared when they had finished their appetizer, carrying the main course in his clawed hand. He deftly replaced the empty bowls, bowed and winked out. Snape cleared his throat, but felt at a loss as what to say. This was all so new.

Well, Hermione broke the ice.

"I think I should warn you that I've been doing a bit of reading myself," she said to him as she cut her chicken.

Snape looked up at her.

"That's no surprise, Hermione. You're always reading," he responded.

"Not about this."

"About what?"

"Oh, just the male erotic zones and fellatio," she said non-chalantly.

Snape, who was chewing on a piece of potato, suddenly sucked a bit down the wrong pipe and started coughing horribly.

"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, alarmed. She jumped up, ran around the table and started beating him on his back until he drew in a ragged breath and drank down some pumpkin juice.

Hermione returned to her seat with a slight grin as he looked at her with watery eyes.

"Not the reaction I expected," she said, spearing a carrot with her fork and inserting it into her mouth.

"Fellatio? As in sucking a man's—um—"

"Cock or penis. The term is interchangeable," she told him, glad to finally have to finish a delicate sentence for him. She felt positively wicked as he stared at her.

"You really plan to do that?" Snape asked her, his voice cracking a little.

"Among other things," she replied. "You can't have all the glory, you know. This is supposed to be a balanced relationship, for what it is."

Snape felt his boxers become very tight as he looked at Hermione's mouth. She was going to give him a blowjob. Suddenly, all his well-laid plans flew out of the window. He'd never thought that she'd want to—to pleasure him. He was of the mind that wizards did all the pleasuring and witches just took it.

Obviously, that wasn't the case with Hermione. But he had to know something . . .

"Have you ever done that to Ron? Fellatio?" he asked her.

"No. But he never went down on me. You did. That makes it a reciprocal act," Hermione said. "But would it have made a difference to you if I had?"

Snape shook his head, his eyes going a bit soft.

"No, it wouldn't have, Hermione, but, it's nice to know I'll be your first in something too," he said softly.

Hermione smiled at him.

"Do you think you'll be good at it?"

"What? Severus! That's nothing to ask a witch!"

Severus didn't look the least bit contrite.

"Well, there are concerns, Hermione. I mean, what if you snag my foreskin with your teeth? That would be very painful."

Hermione scowled at him.

"You keep talking like that, Severus, and you won't have to worry about it because my teeth will come nowhere near your cock," she said to him darkly. "And neither will my mouth!"

"I'm sure you'll be wonderful," Snape replied quickly, backpedaling at maximum. He hadn't dreamed Hermione would be willing to do anything like that, and now that she said she would, he definitely didn't want her to change her mind.

Would she swallow?

He began to eat much faster.

* * *

Hermione tortured Snape throughout the entire meal, eating slowly as she told him about all the things she'd learned about turning on the male body. He was glad he was seated, because his cock was so swollen that it looked as if he were straddling a very thick broomstick that was hidden beneath his very tented robes.

Hermione appeared not to know what she was doing to the wizard, but she knew all right, and it was fun to make him so aroused and uncomfortable. She slowly put the last vegetable into her mouth and chewed as Snape watched her with glittering eyes. It felt as if he'd finished his food hours ago.

The House Elf appeared again, carrying two plates of Elderberry pie.

"No! No pie!" Snape snapped at it. The elf cringed, its ears going flat.

"What do you mean, no pie? I want pie," Hermione hissed at him, motioning to the elf to hand over the pie. Snape scowled as she took it.

"Aren't you full yet?" he griped.

"No, I'm not. I thought you were going to work on your romantic skills," she said to him as the House Elf took the plates away. Snape's pie sat untouched before him.

"It's hard to think about being romantic when all the blood that's usually in my brain has gone south," he replied bad-naturedly. "You're purposely tormenting me, Hermione."

"I am not," she said, a wicked gleam in her brown eyes. She pretended to fan herself.

"My, it's warm in here," she said.

"Warm? It's not warm. It's the proper temperature."

"I feel warm," Hermione said, standing up and unbuttoning her robes.

Snape's mouth dropped open as she slid the robes down her arms revealing the sheer Slytherin green nightie underneath. She made a big production of folding up her robes and placing them on the back of the chair. Snape's eyes drank in her breasts and the little thong that barely covered her sex. He noticed immediately that she had shaved a bit. Hermione took in a deep breath so her breasts ballooned a moment, then let out an exaggerated sigh and sat back down to her pie.

"That's much better," she said, cutting into her pie with a fork.

Snape couldn't seem to find his voice as he looked at Hermione. She looked so—so sexy. He swallowed a few times, before words managed to form.

"You're beautiful," he breathed.

Hermione looked over at him and smiled softly.

"And you're randy," she replied.

"Yes. Oh, yes," Snape said softly. "Hurry and finish that pie, Hermione. Please."

Hermione ate another bit of pie, then said, "Severus, I want you to understand something. This is 'ladies night.' In other words, it's my turn to explore you and watch you melt down. I have to perfect my technique and I don't feel like having any competition."

Snape nodded. He'd agree to anything right now. So, his own plans for Hermione had to go on the backburner. He didn't mind a bit. He was going to be on the receiving end this time, something completely unexpected. Thank the gods for knowledge-driven witches who believed in a hands-on approach.

Hermione looked cool on the outside, but she was feeling very excited as well. Snape's reactions to her were a definite turn on. He looked so hungry, so excited—so eager. He was as willing to be explored as to explore. She would be just as thorough with his body as he had been with hers. She was interested in seeing his reactions. She wanted to know if males responded to foreplay as women did, or did they have a lower tolerance for it? Would Snape let her take the time on him that she allowed him to take when they shagged the first time?

Would he beg for it?

Hermione thought she'd like it if he did. Maybe she did have a bit of tormentor in her after all.

Suddenly his voice cut through her thoughts.

"You're a lot like Lily, Hermione—in some ways. She used to torment me too. But not like this. I know that with you, it's kind of foreplay, and I like it. I know you aren't just going to walk away and leave me desiring you. Lily—she was different. She had to know how I felt about her, Hermione, even if I didn't say it."

"I'm not like Lily, Severus. I would never play games with you, not the kind that would hurt you," Hermione said quietly. "I care about what's going on with you and—and I'd like to see you happy this time around. I'm glad to be a small part of that happiness."

"You're more than a small part, Hermione. You've made all of this bearable. You're the first witch who ever let me in. No matter what the future holds, you'll never be 'small' to me. Ever."

Hermione looked at him and slowly pushed her unfinished pie away.

"You'll never be 'small' to me, either," she said naughtily, her eyes flicking downward as if she could see his erection beneath the table. He gave her a crooked grin.

"You're a wicked little witch, Hermione Granger."

"I thought Slytherins like naughty."

"We do, particularly when we've played a part in the corruption," Snape said, smirking a bit. "Have you ever—"

Hermione slowly rose.

"Dressed like this for Ron? No."

Hermione studied him.

"You certainly ask about Ron a lot, Severus," she observed as she walked around the table. Snape turned in his chair so he faced her, looking up and placing his hands gently on her waist.

"It's almost as if you're jealous," she finished.

Snape's eyes drifted down her nightie-clad body for a moment, then looked back up at her, his eyes heated.

"I—I just want to know what you do for me that you didn't do for him, Hermione. Is it wrong to want parts of you that he hasn't experienced? To know I have something with you he didn't?"

Snape was resigned he wasn't the first wizard to shag Hermione, and he didn't think any less of her because of that, but he wanted some firsts with the witch. Something intimate he could always carry with him. He was jealous of Ron in a way, jealous that he'd been with her at all when they were so unsuitable. He liked Weasley all right, but not when it came to Hermione. He was glad he had a new girlfriend and got her so quickly.

Snape pulled Hermione closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head against her breasts, his eyes closed as he heard the beat of her heart, felt her warmth and breathed in the scent of her. Hermione, moved by this display of affection, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as well, leaning slightly, kissing his temple then just resting her chin on his head. They stay embraced that way for a minute or two, Snape letting out a contented sigh as the feeling of being cared for washed over him.

Hermione was moved by his willingness to show he wanted affection and care, something he never portrayed as an adult. Ron had wanted it too, but this was different. Ron was loved and cared for by his friends and family. He always had been.

Severus' life was very different. There was a void inside him that Hermione was quickly filling. Yes, there would be physically intimate moments when their bodies entwined, but it was the moments like this would be most affecting to the wizard. Moments of emotional connection, of closeness and trust, things he'd been lacking for most of his life.

Severus started to loosen his grip and stand up, but Hermione softly said, "No, Severus. Stay seated."

The wizard did as she asked, and started as she sat on his lap, her legs on either side of this waist, her core pressing against his covered erection, and her arms wrapping around his neck. Hermione gave him a soft smile as his arms once again wrapped around her waist, pulling her body closer against his.

"Non-academic activities have officially begun," she said, covering his mouth with her own and gently invading it with her tongue. Snape shifted forward and she locked her legs around his waist. The wizard groaned against her mouth as she began to wind her pelvis against his hardness, the scent of arousal filling the air as her thong was moistened from the contact.

"Hermione," Snape breathed, kissing her hungrily as he began to caress her, able to feel the softness of her skin through the flimsy gown, his fingers moving up and down her back and over her shoulders before they slid down and he helplessly grasped two handfuls of buttocks and ground himself against her roughly.

"Shit, Severus," she hissed, letting her head fall back as Snape fell to her throat, kissing and suckling it as he continued to work her body against his. Hermione thrust her pelvis back and forth rhythmically as if engaging in sex. Snape's eyes nearly rolled up into his head.

"You're going to make me come in my trousers," he hissed against her neck.

Hermione stopped grinding against him.

"We can't have that, can we?" she asked him softly. "That's reserved for something softer and wetter."

"Yes," he breathed, kissing her again and standing up. Hermione still clung to him, her legs locked around his waist, her moist center still pressed into his hardness as the wizard walked toward his bedroom.

They needed a bit more wriggle room.

* * *

A/N: Hi all. Sorry for the delay. Real life issues took over. Sorry for the cliffie, too. Debra went back to work today and so today was my first day watching the twins, who are about 6 weeks old now. Not very conducive to writing lemons. Lol. I'm going to have to do it at night. Actually Ibn is off tomorrow, and Debra is off Monday and Tuesday so no more twin-watching until Wednesday. I also launched my writing website articlesandparticles . com for my freelance writing services. If any of you use writers for projects think about giving me a try. I'm very easy to work with and very versatile. Plus, I need the money. I have two clients but the work is piecework so I can use a couple more. Anyway, next chapter we'll get the lemony Hermione goodness. I rarely get a chance to write her going for her own, so it will be fun all around. Thanks for reading.


	55. Even Sweeter Torment

**Chapter 54 ~ Even Sweeter Torment**

As they crossed the threshold to Snape's bedroom, the wizard stopped, looking at Hermione and licking his lips.

"I want to shag you like this—just like this, Hermione, with your legs wrapped around my waist and your arms around my neck," he said softly. "I want to watch your face—"

"We'll see, Severus," she replied with a slight gasp as he pulled her into his hardness again. "But right now, you need to put me down—on the floor."

Snape carried her further into the bedroom and put her down on the floor, letting her slide down his body slowly. She looked up at him, then reached up and undid the first button of his robes.

"I can do that faster," Snape said.

"No. I love all these buttons. I want to do it," Hermione replied, unfastening the next in a long line of tiny buttons.

"Hermione, there's over fifty buttons," he whined. "It's going to take forever."

"I want to undo them myself, Severus. It turns me on."

Faced with that pronouncement, Snape shut up. He wasn't about to interfere with anything about himself or his robes that turned Hermione on. The scent of her right now was nearly driving him mad.

When she was about twenty buttons in, Hermione parted his robes and looked surprised when she saw his pale chest beneath.

"Aren't you wearing clothes under your robes," she asked him.

His lips compressed, Snape shook his head.

"Just boxers," he managed to get out. He let out a gasp as Hermione pressed her lips to his bare skin, right over his heart, then continued to unbutton his robes. She was getting close to the tented part now and didn't hesitate touching his erection in passing. Snape hissed helplessly as she grinned up at him.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" she asked him softly as she started to kneel to get the rest of the buttons. Snape looked down at her and he started to tremble a little. Her face was right in front of his hard-on although she was looking down at the rest of the buttons. She saw her socks and trainers as she did so.

"That's not sexy at all," she said, rising.

Snape blinked at her. What? He wasn't sexy? Not even a little bit?

Hermione walked over to the bed and sat down, untying her trainers, then removing them along with her socks. She wriggled her toes.

"That's better. Trainers don't go very well with nighties. Not sexy at all."

Snape let out a relieved sigh. She hadn't been talking about him. He started to take off his robes since they were opened. Hermione popped up.

"No! I want to do it," she said, walking back over to him. She sounded like a petulant two-year-old as she walked behind Severus. He closed his eyes as her hands ran over his shoulders, then caught the front of his robes and drew them back. He held his arms back and out, feeling the air hit his skin as she took them off him. He felt alone for a moment as she walked away to put them on the chair, then her arms encircled his waist as she kissed him softly behind his shoulders, her lips soft and warm as they moved over his skin.

"Hermione," he sighed, turning around, his tented boxers grazing her lower belly.

Hermione looked at him. He had filled out a bit since his accident. He was eating better and it showed. He was still slender, but his ribs didn't show as much. He had the "skinny" six pack, too. His chest wasn't as thin either. Possibly flying as a Gryffin had strengthened it and his shoulders. His hair was touching his shoulders now. Suddenly, she pushed him backwards so hard he stumbled, falling on to the bed and catching himself on his hands so he was in a sitting position.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Too rough for you, Severus?" Hermione asked him, walking up and kneeling on her heels, unzipping the side of one of his boots and tugging it off him.

"You really need to get some carpeting in here. The stone floor is too hard for me to get on my knees," she informed him as she pulled off his sock and tucked it into the boot. She then removed the other. "Or a couple of rugs."

"Carpeting," he breathed. If she wanted that, he'd get it for her. "Rugs."

Hermione stood up and moved between Severus' legs, looking down at him as he stared at her body. He pushed his head between her breasts and just inhaled. He looked up at her.

"You have no idea how delicious you smell, Hermione. Thank you for not wearing perfume. Nothing you could spray on could match your natural aroma," he told her. "It makes my skin tingle and my mouth water. I feel I could just eat you."

"That's not very reassuring, Severus, considering in your Animagus form, you could eat me," she replied with a smirk.

"Never," he breathed, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist and falling on his back into the bed, pulling her on top of him.

"At least, not in the usual sense," he added, rolling her over and kissing her hungrily.

"Mmmf! Mmmf!"

Hermione squirmed beneath him and Snape reluctantly broke the kiss, his brow furrowed.

"What?" he breathed, pressing his loins into her.

"Ladies night. Now, roll over and stay over unless I tell you differently," Hermione demanded, scowling at him.

Snape obediently rolled to his back and Hermione straddled him, brushing her hair back as he stared up at her.

"Now, where should I start?" she mused as Snape rubbed the side of her thighs softly, the slight fabric of her nightie separating his palm from her flesh.

"Um, I have a suggestion," he said softly.

Hermione looked down at him, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"You could take off your nightie," the wizard responded, his eyes falling to her breasts. The nipples were tiny buds.

"My nightie. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

Hermione smirked at him then drew her gown over her head, revealing her body. She still wore the tiny thong. Snape let out a little noise as she removed it and dropped it behind her to the floor.

Snape ran his hands up her sides and around the curve of her breasts before capturing her shoulders and trying to pull her down for yet another kiss.

She resisted.

"You really have control issues, Severus. I'm in charge—do you understand that? I've already explained to you about what I wanted to do tonight. Didn't you hear a word I said to you."

"It must be the blood gone south situation," he replied. "It's hard to focus on instructions right now, Hermione."

"You don't have to focus. Just lie there and let me do what I want," she said to him.

"I'll—I'll try and control myself," he said docilely.

Hermione leaned down and kissed him lightly.

"That's a good wizard," she purred at him as she pulled away, Snape's lips following hers, parted and wanting more.

"Is this going to be more torment?" he asked her.

Hermione smiled naughtily.

"That depends on your definition of torment, Severus," she replied as she climbed off of him and laid down beside him. He turned his head toward her and started to turn his body.

"No, stay on your back," she said softly, caressing his cheek, her warm hand sliding slowly around his jaw line, then down his throat. She saw his Adam's apple bob and placed her palm against it, feeling it work up and down against her hand. Then she took her hand away and leaned over him.

"Tilt your head back a little," she breathed softly, and Snape did as he was asked, his eyes closing as her lips rested against his throat, right on his Adam's apple. He reflexively swallowed again, Hermione feeling it shift under her lips. She suckled his neck and Snape let out a groan. Her mouth felt so soft, so wonderful as she kissed his throat, her hand sliding over his shoulder, down his chest, then . . .

Hah—heh—hoo—" the wizard breathed as Hermione gently grasped and tweaked his nipple. Both hardened into taut little peaks immediately and Hermione once again straddled him, her core lower than his boxer encased cock so she wasn't sitting directly on it, but it still pressed against her lower belly, restricted from standing straight up because of the fabric. Sliding back, Hermione kissed and licked Snape's chest, then suckled his little peak and the wizard buckled as if she'd touched him with a white hot poker.

Hermione knew how to suck a breast because she knew what she liked to feel and she applied her lips, teeth and tongue to first one man breast, then the other, moving hack and forth sensuously, pulling, suckling, nipping with both lips and teeth.

"Shit!" Snape gasped as little shocks of pleasure shot through him. The sensations were delicious and felt so wrong, yet so good. Snape thought only witches liked their nipples sucked and played with, but Merlin's pubes, he liked this.

Hermione obviously liked doing it to him, her brown eyes turned upward as she nipped and licked at him, feeling him writhe and wriggle under her. She smiled around a mouthful of nipple and flesh as he let out a shuddering gasp and one of his hands moved to the back of her head, trying to keep her there. His skin was becoming moist and very slightly salted as Snape began to perspire under her ministrations.

"Oh gods," he muttered as Hermione left his breasts and began kissing her way down his belly. He had said that because both of her breasts were around this cock and she was rubbing back and forth as she kissed him, caressing his stiff organ between them. But he was still in his boxers, so it was still a sweet torment.

Not one that lasted long either as Snape reached down and pulled his cock out, slapping it upward between her breasts and pressing them around it, feeling all that fullness, heat and softness as Hermione's mouth dropped open, and her eyes went half lidded. Snape pumped between them as best he could. He could have died when the head of his cock bumped Hermione's chin.

But this wasn't the time to go to the Great Beyond, oh no. No. He'd fight the reaper tooth and nail if he dared try to claim him now. Then he felt Hermione's tongue flick over his head for a quick second and he stopped moving as she looked up at him, resting on her elbows so he could see the head and upper part of his cock caught between her breasts, glistening.

"Oh—oh—damn," he breathed, unable to help pressing her breasts tighter and thrusting a little. "Heremione—oh. Damn. I can't believe—" He caught her breasts fully in both hands and drew them together so he was completely surrounded by witch, then started thrusting again, shagging her tits, his mouth open and eyes wet with pleasure as he looked from his thrusting organ to Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly pursed. She gasped from time to time, softly, and let out a tiny "Mmm" from time to time, clearly turned on.

"Yesss, Hermione," he breathed, feeling himself tightening. Hermione felt him pulse against her skin.

"Stop!" she hissed, pulling away from him and sitting up on her knees. Snape's hands clasped spasmodically as if still holding her juicy breasts. With her hands on her hips, and narrowed brown eyes, she looked like an angry, nude goddess. Her crotch was resting on his knees and he could feel the moist heat through the soaked thong.

"You'd better not come yet, Severus. I haven't even started on you yet!"

Snape bit his lip and closed his eyes, his entire body quaking as he tried to hold back. Even thinking about Potter wasn't helping. What they'd just done was too erotic to block out. Suddenly, he felt strong pressure on the head of his cock and his eyes flew open to find Hermione gripping him tightly.

"This is supposed to help," she said softly. The pressure might have helped, but seeing and feeling Hermione's hand around his most sensitive part, choking it—didn't.

"I'm—I'm sorry," he gasped as his balls drew up and Hermione felt the underside of his shaft contract and he shot a wad into her closed fist, groaning in pleasure. Quickly she yanked his cock backward and pointed it at her chest, releasing the head, so the next several spurts landed on her skin in thick white globules, looking a bit like runny pearls.

Snape's back was arched, his head tilted back and lower lip caught between his teeth as he grunted. Damn, that felt so good. When he stopped he looked at Hermione, who looked down at him with soft eyes, his come slowly running over her breasts. With him watching, Hermione rubbed it into her skin like lotion before slowly bringing her fingertips to her mouth, Snape up on his elbows now unable to believe what he was seeing as she tasted his come.

She made a smacking noise and said, "This wouldn't be that hard to swallow."

Snape grabbed her and pulled her upward, locking his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss before he apologized for not being able to hold back.

"That's all right, Severus. It's said a man lasts longer after his first ejaculation. I'm going to make sure you have more than one," she told him.

Snape stared at her. She was so hot—he never dreamed she'd be like this. Hermione had never entertained the thought either. Getting her tits shagged and tasting a wizard's come hadn't been on her to do list of things to accomplish in her last year at Hogwarts. But, it seemed so right to do with Severus. She didn't feel self-conscious about it, perhaps because their first time, he wasn't hesitant about her body. He wasn't a Ron, who was over-cautious and a little prudish. Young wizard prudish. As he got older, most likely he'd become more comfortable and explorative, but Snape was ready from square one to be a good lover. Tom might have had quite a bit to do with that.

Whatever the subconscious reasons for Hermione's lack of inhibition, it really came down to having the right partner. Snape was that and more. He was willing to take the submissive role as well as the dominant one. Such cooperation couldn't help but make their encounters good. It was as if they were made for each other.

Hermione slid over and rested her head on his shoulder. Snape looked at her with tender eyes.

"It shouldn't take me long to recover," he said softly.

"I know it won't," Hermione said, Snape jerking slightly as she brazenly cupped his balls and gently rolled them between her fingers, before reaching behind them with a forefinger and stroking his perineum. Snape gasped and arched again.

"Not too long at all," she reiterated with a wicked grin.

* * *

A/N: Well, I thought they'd be shagging this chapter, but . . . apparently I was wrong. Lol. Again, with the kids and such, not a conducive atmosphere for lemons. I've been writing this chapter in spurts since yesterday evening. Very slow going. I usually write straight through. I've lost one of my two freelance writing clients due to irreconcilable differences and a broken agreement between us. There were terms that were to be met, that weren't on their side. And I began to feel used and unappreciated. But, on a brighter note, the client I lost was the one who paid a penny a word. I still have my client that pays two cent a word, although I don't work for him as much as I'd like. I did get some inquiries from my website so, I'm hopeful. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Thanks for reading.


	56. NonAcademic Activities

Chapter 55 ~ Non-Academic Activities

Hermione locked her mouth to Severus' as she manipulated his cock, running her finger up and down it like it was a flute as Snape panted and groaned into her mouth. She pulled back from him long enough to spit into her hand, then reapplied her manipulations or his organ, fisting it gently and twisting her hand.

"Hermione," Snape groaned, "Oh, that's—that's so—"

"Good?" she whispered against his lips as he jerked and shuddered in response.

"Yes. When—when are you going to—you know—your mouth?"

"I want you to get used to my hand first. My mouth might be too much for you right now."

"No, no, it won't. It will be soft and warm and—I can take it. I promise you."

Snape's eyes were pleading and he kissed her again, hungrily, willing her to go down on him. He just had to know what it felt like.

"Please, Hermione," he begged as he began to harden again. Hermione stopped wanking him, a wicked look in her eyes. Snape felt the entire world had stopped moving as the pleasure ceased. He was so turned on. How could she stop?

"Please what?" she asked him, her hand still clasped around his erection.

"Please do it," Snape sighed, his eyes wet with desire as he looked at her.

"Do what?"

"Fellatio."

Hermione grinned at the randy wizard.

"No, we're not going to use that term. Say plainly what you want, Severus. I want to hear you say something dirty. Dirty words are appropriate during sex. I don't want textbook references. I get enough of that language when I'm studying. If you want me to do it, you have to say it. Say it."

Snape blinked at her, his body aching for her touch. Okay, if that was what she wanted—

"Suck my cock, Hermione," he breathed. "Please suck it."

Hermione felt a dirty little thrill go through her when Severus responded that way. It was such a nasty, hot request. This was so much different than when she and Ron were intimate. This was so much more in line with what she thought sex should be like.

"Ok, Severus. I'll suck your cock," she said back to him, another dirty thrill going through her as she adjusted herself, sliding downward.

Snape was holding his breath, unable to either inhale or exhale as Hermione grasped the base of his now fully swollen cock and pointed it towards her face. But wait, her hair was in the way. He quickly swept it back so he could see her profile, lifting his head to see her better. Oh gods, how sexy was that to see the head of his cock only an inch or two from her lips?

Hermione pursed her lips, then slowly slid them over his hot, hard cock, feeling it pulse as it entered her mouth. Severus made a noise somewhere between a cry and a choke as her softness surrounded his rigid flesh and her tongue swirled around it. Then a gentle suction followed and she slid downward, taking him in deeper.

"Oh—" was all the wizard could get out as Hermione's mouth pulled at him, seeming to draw pleasure from his very limbs, down his spine to cumulate where her mouth suckled him. She gently played with his balls and Snape flung his arms out, grasping the mattress tightly, the veins in his hands standing out. His head fell back and his eyes closed, a grimace on his face as he experienced his very first blowjob. It was—exquisite.

Hermione took her time, and applied everything she'd learned, keeping his shaft lubricated with her saliva, sucking and tonguing his shaft and balls, Snape nearly whimpering from her skills. This wasn't the frenzied, sloppy blowjob of Blue Pensieve fame, nor was it a fight for dominance. This was a mutual pleasure, a slow, almost spiritual connecting of two people expressed through the flesh. Snape idly ran his fingers gently through her hair as Hermione laved him lovingly, listening to his voice, his pleas and his encouragement. She responded, giving him more, feeling him tremble, the scent of shared arousal heavy in the air, a musky perfume.

Snape was completely lost to Hermione's tender, sensual attentions. He had never felt so wanted in his life, and never so protective of another human being. He knew he would kill for Hermione and couldn't ever be without her, not ever.

In any other case, this might have been the momentary infatuation of a teenaged boy with his first sexual partner, but Snape's feelings toward Hermione went soul deep. She was not an unreachable dream. She was here, and real and willingly interacting with him. Snape was both awed and grateful that she found him so appealing. His heart swelled more than any other part of his body ever could. He began to feel his balls tightening under her fingertips, and suddenly, he didn't want her to bring him to climax. Not this way, not now. He wanted to be buried deep inside her when he came.

He caressed her hair and softly said, "Stop, Hermione."

Hermione released him, her brow furrowed. Her voice was a bit husky as she answered him.

"Why?"

"Because, because I want to—to make love to you," he replied, reaching down and drawing her up so she was on top of him, her curling hair resting on his shoulders as she looked down at him with heated eyes.

"Don't you mean shag me, Severus?"

"No. I don't mean shag you," he responded, his black eyes both tender and hungry. "I want to get as close to you as I can. Even then, Hermione, it won't be close enough. I don't think it ever will be close enough."

"You sound as if you think you're in love, Severus. Love isn't supposed to be part of this. We are just lovers sharing our bodies."

"You can be satisfied with that, Hermione," he said soberly. "But for me, it's something more. I didn't expect this, didn't know I'd be so whipped by you, but I feel it inside me. I'm in love with you. Not obsessed by you like I was with Lily, but in love with you."

Hermione searched his face.

"You don't know what love is, Severus. This could just be strong infatuation. I am your first witch," she told him gently. "And everything in your life has changed so much you could just be clinging to me to feel grounded. The feeling could pass as you adjust more to your new life."

"This feeling will never pass, Hermione Granger. I will love you until the day I die—and beyond that," Snape declared passionately. "I am a wizard of my word. Still, I know you don't belong to me outside of these moments. That's what we agreed to, and I will abide by it. But, in times like this, when it's just you and me—like this, then you are all mine. That's what it feels like to me. That's what it is. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you now."

Hermione smiled down at him.

"How about throwing a duel?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow.

Snape blinked at her.

"Hm, I guess there are a few pride-related things I wouldn't do for you. I'm not about to let you believe you can kick my arse when you can't."

"Good. I don't want you to turn into a groveling, spineless little wuss because you're in 'lurve.' I think the fastest way for you to turn me off is to become some kind of fawning fool, Severus"

"Like I was for Lily," he said quietly.

Hermione nodded.

"You let her treat you any way she wanted, and it got you no place. Learn from your mistakes," she admonished him. "Don't be anything other than who you are. I like you snarky, argumentative, unreasonable and arrogant. Sometimes. Most of the time."

His black eyes glittered.

"Do you really? How about 'overpowering?"

Hermione didn't get a chance to answer him as he quickly rolled her over. She struggled but he kissed her into complacency, his kiss deep and affecting as he pressed his erection between her thighs.

"I'm going to be arrogant, snarky and a right bastard all my days if that's what makes me attractive to you," he told her. "I am never unreasonable. I'll be able to be what you need, Hermione, because underneath all of this—this emotion, you still manage to annoy me a great deal."

"I what?" she cried, struggling again, but Snape once again kissed her until she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his ardor.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed as he came up for air.

"Oh, Severus. You're going to be saying that a lot tonight, Hermione, I promise you," he said softly as he began to explore her body, kissing and licking it as she indeed sighed his name over and over.

This time when he came to her moist thighs, he added a little flourish by removing her thong with his teeth, drawing it down her legs and over her feet. He pressed them to his nose for a moment, his black eyes hot as he looked down at her. He tossed them from the bed and fell back on top of her, working his loins and hard organ between her thighs.

"I think I'm going to last much longer this time, Hermione. I'm getting used to—to feeling sensations down there," he told her, brushing back her hair as he looked down at her.

"That's good, Severus," she breathed up at him, writhing a little.

"You're so beautiful, Hermione," he breathed, reaching between their bodies and positioning himself against her moist heat. He licked his fingers, his nostrils flaring at her taste. Slowly, he pressed forward, filling her with his hardness and hissing as she surrounded him, his eyes locked to her face as her eyelids fluttered and her mouth dropped open.

Snape reached down and hooked one arm under her thigh and pulled her knee toward her chest, opening her and turning slightly so he was angled correctly to continue his penetration without interruption. He began to stroke Hermione, whirling his hips a little, practicing what he'd learned. Her body buckled and she bit her lip from the pleasure.

"Oh, Severus,' she breathed blissfully as his cock caressed and stretched her. He was gentle and focused, his eyes drinking in every expression that crossed her face. He kissed her lightly and repeatedly as he claimed her jerking body, a grimace on his face as her warmth sucked and pulled at his shaft.

After several minutes, Snape stopped, reached between their bodies and withdrew his cock. He slapped her labia with the swollen head of it several times before reinserting it. Hermione gasped and purred like a kitten at the bit of roughness.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed. "This feels so good."

"Does it?" he breathed at her, knowing full well this had to be the closest to heaven they could possibly be in the flesh. He pressed himself deep inside her and held himself steady, pressing against her cervix, feeling the delicious resistance.

"I don't feel I can ever get deep enough, Hermione," he said softly, pressing his lips to her mouth again.

"Neither do I, Severus," she responded. "But—try."

Severus stared down at her and she felt him pulse strongly inside her. Then he raised himself up on his hands, drew back and stroked into her hard, Hermione letting out a cry of "Yes!"

His face contorted, Snape slammed into her again, her shriek loud and her eyes wet. Her hands slipped to his arse and she pulled on him.

"Faster. Harder," she breathed at him and Snape began to fuck Hermione as hard as he could, carefully listening to her cries in case she wanted him to stop, their bodies slapping together loudly and wetly as perspiration poured over them, Hermione's hair becoming nearly black with sweat as they flowed and undulated. How beautiful and wild she sounded as Snape pierced her again and again, possessiveness gripping his heart as he gave her and she gave him what they both needed.

Suddenly Hermione pushed outward on both of his arms, making him fall heavily on top of her, then rolling him over and mounting him quickly, Snape staring up at her, then his eyes rolling up as she took over, rising and falling on his cock, her hair swinging and breasts bouncing as she took the dominant position.

"Damn," Snape hissed, clutching at her waist, thighs and breasts as she rode him like a cowgirl. He bucked so he could go deeper, Hermione cursing in reaction. Suddenly, Snape sat up and clutched Hermione to him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and scooting forward. He carefully stood up, Hermione sloe-eyed and still impaled. She reflexively locked her legs around his slender waist and her arms around his neck.

"Yes," he breathed as he lifted her slightly and began stroking her, staring at her face as she gasped, then her head fell to his shoulder. Snape slipped his hands under her arse and began to lift her body up and down to match his stroke, hitting her deep, lust and desire taking him over as he squelched through her wetness, his loins covered in her juices as she orgasmed, nearly choking the life out of him. But he kept going even as the delicious clutch of her sleeve pulsed around his member, milking it. But, he wasn't going this easily this time. He walked over to the far wall, still thrusting into Hermione, who was babbling now, all feeling as she gave herself over completely to the wizard. Snape stopped before the wall, then seemed to change his mind and moved toward the dresser, carefully setting Hermione on it and pushing her back slightly so her back rested against the mirror.

Snape looked down and slowly pulled his cock almost completely out of her body. It was streaked with cream. He collected a bit on his fingertip, then looked at Hermione, whose brown eyes rested on him. She was breathing heavily.

"Open," he said softly.

Hermione did so and he gently inserted his cream tipped finger into her mouth, smoothing her release over her tongue. He withdrew his hand and leaned forward, penetrating her deeply as he kissed her, tasting her flavor directly from her mouth. It was heavenly and a little kinky. But Hermione was beyond caring at this point.

Severus leaned back, gripped Hermione's thighs and stroking her again. He watched his penetration with pursed lips, his eyes flicking from the juncture of their bodies, to Hermione's bouncing breasts, then to her face. He cupped one, catching the nipple between his fingers and squeezing lightly, feeling her flesh bubble between his digits. Then he gripped her waist and sped up, hips flying, his eyes locked to her face as she cried out softly.

"Beautiful," he breathed, feeling his balls beginning to tighten for the second time that night. He pulled her off the dresser and ran with her to the bed, falling across it on top of her and trapping both her legs under his arms.

"Grab your ankles," he hissed at the witch. Hermione did so, and Snape looked down at his cock buried between the downy lips of her pussy. It looked as if it was glazed and wetness glistened all around it and on Hermione's thighs. He breathed in the scent of sex, then drove into her deeply, his eyes rolling up as he hit bottom.

"Is it too much?" he gasped down at Hermione.

"No! I'm going to come again. Severus," she groaned at him, her head twisting from side to side.

"I'm coming with you," he declared, then he slid his hands down to the back of her upturned thighs, nearly framing her pussy as Hermione continued holding her ankles. He started stroking her deeply and rhythmically, changing from thrust, to pump, to whirl, watching his cock enter her up to the balls. He was very deep and it felt damn near too good. He began to gently tickle her clit with his fingertips as he dipped in and out of the witch, and presently she began keening, her temperature increasing, her scent becoming sharp and maddening as she approached climax again. Snape began to pound her, bringing his own release close, breathing, "Take it. Take it all, Hermione."

Hermione let out a howl as Snape stiffened, suddenly realizing he didn't drink his sperm nullifying potion and jerking out of the witch, spilling his seed on her belly just above her pubic hair line. He cried out at each delicious pulse as he ejaculated, caressing his cock with one hand as he directed the spurts. Damn, it was much more intense than the first one.

He rubbed his come into her skin, looking down at the sated witch.

"I'm sorry. I forgot to drink my potion, Hermione. I hope—"

He hoped he hadn't gotten her pregnant from his pre-come, which always had a bit of sperm in it.

Hermione lay there, feeling boneless, her eyes closed as the residual burn and bliss of Snape's lovemaking sizzled inside her.

When Hermione didn't answer him, Snape said, "Hermione, did you hear me? I forgot to take my potion. You could be—be pregnant."

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and gave him a gentle smile before pulling him down on top of her.

"No, I'm not. I wasn't about to leave something like that up to you. I have a patch and I drank a very strong contraceptive potion. I didn't like what you were taking. It seemed too painful."

Snape kissed her.

"The kind of pleasure you give me, Hermione, is worth a little pain."

"No, you've been hurt enough, Severus. When we come together, there shouldn't be any pain—unless it's the good kind. You were wonderful. So strong."

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"You like—strong?" he asked her.

She nodded, reddening a little.

"Yes, I do. It's—I can't explain it," she said softly.

Snape gave her a smile, thinking about what Tom had told him about strong women.

"It's all right, Hermione. You don't have to explain anything," he replied. "Not anything."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	57. On the Way Back to Gryffindor Tower

**Chapter 56 ~ On the Way Back to Gryffindor Tower**

Snape and Hermione had one more very hot encounter that had the headboard rocking and made both of them rather hoarse from all the grunting and shrieking. They took a totally sex-free shower together, washing each others' backs, then Snape insisted on walking Hermione to Gryffindor tower despite her protests.

"The Bloody Baron might get you," Snape said as he walked her up the dungeon corridor. Hermione snorted.

"Really, you could come up with something better than that, Severus. The Bloody Baron. Pffft. He doesn't scare me. None of the ghosts do. I'm used to them."

Snape looked around the dungeon area.

"Oh, really?" he asked her.

"Really."

Unknown to Hermione, Peeves, the resident poltergeist, was following them, listening. He gave a big smile and his orange bowtie whirled with glee at Hermione's pronouncement, and he quickly flew off to the room where the ghosts congregated, ready to start a bit of devilment.

The ghosts were in a little used, stuffy, gloomy and well-cobwebbed room that was also in the dungeons. It was the same room used to celebrate Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington's (also known as Nearly Headless Nick) five hundredth Deathday. They sat around a large table, chatting, playing chess and other games with ghostly decks and boards. Black tapered candles with blue flames gave off light to see by, and overhead was a chandelier also alight with blue flames. Against a far wall rested a table with rotting food on it and several ghost horses stood quietly by another wall, waiting on their departed masters.

Several headless knights were doing their best to chat up a group of gloomy nuns.

"Come now," one knight purred at an unsmiling nun. "A thousand years of virginity has to get old."

An aged ghost wrapped up in heavy chains chortled at the knight's attempt to woo the nun.

"They don't call them 'nones' for nothing you know!" he cackled.

Peeves zoomed in through a side wall.

"Hallo, ghosties!" Peeves said in greeting as they all looked up at him with distaste.

"Peeves, this area is for ghosts only. Not bothersome creatures created by teenaged angst. Depart immediately," one pearly ghost in armor told him. It was Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, the leader of the Headless Hunt. His head was securely tucked in the crook of his arm and glowered at the poltergeist. The Grey Lady and Bloody Baron frowned in Peeves' direction but said nothing.

"Yes, but Peeves does his job, he does. Causing mayhem. You aren't proper ghosties. You do nothing and no one is frightened of you," Peeves declared, knowing this would piss them off.

"What do you mean? We are frightening when we wish to be," Nearly Headless Nick said, scowling at Peeves.

"No. You can't scare anyone! Hermione Granger said so. She's in the dungeon corridor. She fears no Hogwarts ghostie! You are all—soft! Soft ghosties! She said so!"

"What? Sir Nicholas, isn't Granger one of your charges?" the Bloody Baron asked.

"Why, yes she is."

"I think fame has gone to her head," the Grey Lady purred. "Perhaps we should remind her how frightening we can be."

"You mean scare her?" Nick looked a bit taken aback. Scaring his own charge purposely? That wasn't Quidditch.

"Yes, scare her. She insulted us after all," Sir Patrick hissed. "But if you haven't got the heart for it, Sir Nicholas, then stay behind—like you do during the hunt."

Nick frowned at Sir Patrick. He'd been trying for centuries to get in on the Headless Hunt, but because his head was never fully cleaved from his body and attached by the slightest bit of skin, he was excluded. Rotten luck.

"Of course I've got the heart for it. It's just—unusual. We normally have good relations with the Hogwarts students."

"Softy ghosties," Peeves interjected again, everyone scowling up at him. "Gryffindor boasties."

"Shut up, Peeves!" Nick hissed at him.

"Possibly our relations are too good. They don't respect us," the Grey Lady said.

"Now, now. Respect is something that comes from within, my children," the Fat Friar said loftily.

"Oh, stick a fork in it, Friar. This is time for action, not words. Shall we go teach this Gryffindor a lesson in fear?" Sir Patrick cried, lifting his sword.

The ghosts all agreed, with the exception of Nick and the Fat Friar. The other ghosts were quite pleased to have something other to do that sit around playing games.

The ghost knights mounted their horses and galloped through the walls, led by Sir Patrick. The other ghosts turned invisible and floated after them heading toward Hermione and Snape. Both Nick and the Friar went as well, not wanting to be ostracized by the others.

"Doesn't it bother you that a ghost that isn't even a Hogwarts ghost is leading the charge?" Nick asked the Friar, who shrugged as they entered the wall.

"Sir Patrick is used to leading charges," the Friar replied. "It's his one talent, if you ask me unless you including his ability to make one wish they were dead all over again with his boring stories of his own greatness. He's been telling them for centuries, the bloody blowhard."

Sir Patrick and his knights hung around Hogwarts because they liked to be admired by the other ghosts. No resident ghost knew how to make them leave, and the living inhabitants didn't see any problem. They were all ghosts, and ghosts inhabited castles. Even Muggle ghosts were welcome within the walls. It added atmosphere.

"This is going to be good, yes!" Peeves gloated, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Then he turned invisible too, and followed the ghosts, bow-tie awhirl.

* * *

Snape and Hermione emerged in the entrance hall. A smiling Filch gave a loud whistle and waved at them in passing as he rode a stairwell above.

"Filch certainly likes you, Severus," Hermione observed.

Snape didn't answer her. He was looking around the entrance hall with a furrowed brow. Something didn't feel right. He stopped walking. Hermione continued on a little ways before she realized he had stopped. She stopped walking too.

"Severus? Why did you—"

"Shhh!" he hissed at her, looking about the hall.

"Don't you shush me, you—" Hermione began then screamed as she was suddenly surrounded by maggoty ghosts. They looked horrid, strips of skin and bones showing, partial skulls visible as they moaned and circled her trailing rags and apparently dropping flesh.

Snape drew his wand immediately as Hermione screamed and cowered as the moaning ghosts menaced her. Then, he paused.

Wait. She wasn't afraid of ghosts.

Snape put his wand back in his pocket and folded his arms. None of the ghosts came after him, so someone must have heard her little declaration down in the dungeons and didn't take it too well.

Hermione screeched and ran down the entrance hall toward the Great Hall, pursued by rotting knights, horses and ghosts. They looked so horrible! She tugged on the doors but the hall was locked.

"Leave me alone! Get away!" Hermione screamed, covering her eyes. Peeves nearly pissed ectoplasm in glee as he watched the show, his wide mouth stretched even wider at Hermione's dilemma. He was doubly delighted because she had no idea he was at the bottom of it all. Peeves had struck again.

The ghosts all passed through Hermione' body, moaning and wailing horribly as they chilled her to the bone. Having a ghost pass through you was the equivalent of being under a freezing shower without the wetness. She shivered against the door, her arms clasped around her shoulders and eyes still closed.

"So—you're not afraid of ghosts," a soft voice full of mirth stated.

Hermione opened one eye and looked at Snape. One side of his mouth was twisted upward and twitching. He so wanted to laugh.

Hermione straightened and pushed past him, haughtily heading for the stairs. He ran to catch up to her, saying nothing as they walked up the stairwell together, then down the first floor corridor, then up the narrow stairwell that led to the second floor and first of the shifting stairwells. Peeves followed them invisibly.

As they mounted the first landing, Hermione broke the silence, glaring at Snape.

"Why didn't you help me?" she hissed at him. Snape blinked at her.

"What was I supposed to do? They're ghosts. They don't really interact with the real world, although, you'd never know that by the way you screeched like a Banshee," he replied, smiling openly now. "So, do you still believe you're not afraid of ghosts?"

"They didn't look normal! They were all rotted and maggoty. Anyone would have been scared, Severus. They were horrible. You could have told them to stop or something!"

"What am I? A ghost whisperer? You brought it on yourself, Hermione. One of them must have heard you say you weren't afraid of them."

Grinning, Peeves faded away. His work was done here.

Hermione frowned.

"But, they don't want anyone to be afraid of them, Severus. They never scare anyone."

"Never?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.

"All right, they scared me. But I wasn't expecting them to do it."

"That's the nature of ghosts. They pop up and scare people when they least expect it. Hermione, you really need to learn not to voice everything you think. This is the second time it's gotten you into trouble. You need to think before you open your mouth," Snape admonished her. "Remember what you said in front of your friends? Words have consequences—"

"Stop talking down to me, you git!"

"Don't call me a git, you little—little minx!"

"I'll call you what I like, you arrogant prig!"

"Prig? Prig? Why you little—"

Snape pinned Hermione to the banister and snogged her to silence.

"There. That's the way to shut you up," he said to her softly, his eyes heated.

Hermione stared back at him.

"Oh—just shut up and get me to Gryffindor tower," she murmured, reddening as he smiled at her.

Snape did just that, giving her another snogging at the tower entrance, the Fat Lady tittering and blushing as she witnessed the couple.

"I don't do snogging in the corridors, Severus," Hermione panted as they broke apart.

"You didn't do snogging in the corridors," he purred back at her. "Obviously, you do now."

Hermione turned crimson.

"Good night, Severus," she said quickly, giving the password so the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and let her in.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he replied, watching the painting swing back. He had a sense of déjà vu, remembering when he used to walk Lily to the tower. But there was no snogging, no closeness or blushing. Just a quick goodbye as Lily flounced off.

Snape inhaled deeply, still able to smell Hermione's scent lingering in the air. This was so much better than when he wanted Lily. She was just a fading memory now. Hermione was all he wanted and needed. Smiling crookedly, he turned and headed down the hall.

"Goodnight, Severus," the Fat Lady sang out teasingly behind him.

Snape paused, the smile still on his pale face.

"Good night," he responded, starting to walk again.

And it had been a very good night.

* * *

A/N: Lol. You know, I hardly write about the Hogwarts ghosts or Peeves anymore. I thought a little cameo of them would be nice as well as entertaining. Snape was terrible. He could have helped her somehow. Lol. Thanks for reading. :)


	58. A Venue is Chosen

**Chapter 57 ~ The Venue is Chosen**

On Monday, Snape received a missive from Bartleby asking him to come down to his office, which he did. Hermione was surprised and slightly irritated to find he wasn't in his quarters when she arrived to study for lunch. She was so distracted, she was nearly disemboweled by a book demon, but she threw the book away from her. Book demons could never fully leave their books unless they managed to grab whoever was looking at them. The moment Hermione smelled the brimstone, she sent it flying, the demon landing on the hearth face first, and cursing at her as it held its bleeding nose.

The blood was black of course.

Bartleby had indeed drawn up a very fine contract for Snape's patronage with Lucius, especially concerning possible lodgings for the young wizard. There was a list of possible places Lucius could acquire for a monthly fee and Snape took the list back to Hogwarts with him.

That evening he and Hermione went over the list, sitting side by side at the desk, Hermione's books piled on one side.

"I want someplace private, where I won't be bothered by a lot of people. Preferably close to water," Snape told Hermione who studied the list.

"You want to be in England?" she asked him.

He shook his head.

"No, I like Scotland," he replied. "England does nothing for me."

Hermione looked at him. He probably just wanted a completely fresh start. Hogwarts was in Scotland after all, and Snape considered it his home despite everything that had happened to him.

"Hm, the Isle of Drear sounds interesting," he said to Hermione, who shook her head.

"It's Unplottable, you know, although I'm sure Lord Malfoy could get the coordinates. It's just that the Quintapeds live there, and they aren't very friendly creatures. You wouldn't be able to walk about freely and would have to always be on the lookout for sneak attacks."

"As if I haven't experienced that before," Snape said witheringly.

"Be that as it may, Quintapeds aren't Marauders. They're carnivores, are covered in reddish brown hair and have five legs and low-slung bodies. They love the taste of humans, Severus. You'd be on the menu constantly since you'd be the only human available.

"It's one way to insure privacy," Snape replied thoughtfully. "Trespassers could be eaten."

Hermione scowled at him.

"Well, I certainly won't be visiting you if you live on an isle full of vicious Quintapeds," she informed him.

"Let's look at something else," he said quickly. "Not Aberdeen. Too many people."

"Not Peebles, either. Too many nosy Muggles there," Hermione said, frowning. "That's where Ron and Harry were reported when they flew over in that magic car during their second year. They've been on the lookout for magic ever since."

Snape studied the list, sliding his pale finger down it, suddenly stopping.

"This is it," he said with finality.

Hermione looked down at where his finger rested, then let out a gasp.

"Oh, Severus! You can't be serious!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, but I am. The very reputation of the place will keep the curious away," he said, smiling slightly.

"But—but Boleskin House? The home of the other Loch Ness monster?"

Snape smiled at her.

"Aleister Crowley was not a monster. He was just a sorcerer. A misguided Muggle who tread where he shouldn't have," the wizard said.

Hermione shivered.

"That house was cursed before Crowley ever entered it. Did you know it was built on a site where a church used to stand? It burned down with the entire congregation trapped inside. Some say they still wander around there—"

Snape shrugged.

"So? Ghosts are rather—oh, I see. You're still traumatized. But a few ghosts won't bother me, if they're even there."

Hermione bristled at Snape's reference to the ghost incident that occurred the night before. Nick had apologized profusely when she returned to the tower and informed her it was Peeves who goaded the ghosts to do something.

"It was a matter of pride, Hermione," Nick explained. "My compatriots felt insulted. We are ghosts after all and want to be respected. Your claim not to be frightened of use made a bit of ghostly blood boil. It wasn't meant to hurt you, just—just teach you a bit of manners. I hope you weren't terribly frightened."

Hermione lied and said she was more shocked than frightened, but that just wasn't true. She'd actually wet her knickers a little.

"I'm not traumatized! Ghosts aren't the only things supposed to be at Boleskin house. Crowley let out a bunch of demons and never put them back," she told Snape.

Snape shrugged again.

"I won't bother them and they won't bother me. Besides, I can demon-proof areas if I want to," Snape said confidently.

"Well, I don't like it. I won't visit," Hermione said.

Now, Snape scowled at her.

"Then, you just won't visit, Hermione. I'm not going to let you manipulate this decision with threats of abandoning me. The first time you said that, with the Quintapeds, that was fine. They're a real danger and unfamiliar. But you've dealt with ghosts and demons here at Hogwarts. They're no different anyplace else. I'm going to stay there so Lord Malfoy isn't breathing down my back and I'll have solitude and privacy. I can just as easily come see you if you want me to see you. You don't have to come there, Hermione. Not at all."

Hermione blinked at him. The only word that really registered was "abandoning" him. And he was looking at her with clear dislike on his face. Snape might love Hermione, but that didn't mean he loved everything she did or tried to do.

"I didn't say I'd abandon you. Why do you always assume the worst, Severus?"

"Because the worst is what I'm used to, Hermione. Despite how I feel about you, I still have the underlying belief that most things are too good to be true and happiness is fleeting. I am a Slytherin, remember? I don't wear gold and scarlet spectacles to pretty up the realities of the world."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped at him.

"That I'll never be blinded by 'the good times.' I'll enjoy them, but I'll never fall to them. There are always bad times waiting around the bend concerning everything."

He didn't add "even you" but Hermione knew what was left unsaid. He felt she might cause him pain eventually. She found she didn't like that possibility

"You're a pessimist," Hermione said softly.

"Yes. It's better to be a pessimist than an optimist. There's less pain that way when things go wrong. You expect it," he said, folding up the parchment and standing up. "Tomorrow, I'll let Lord Malfoy know I wish to occupy Boleskin house on the shores of Loch Ness for the duration of my patronage."

Hermione looked up at him and didn't say anything. Suddenly, Snape leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. She didn't resist him. He pulled back, his dark eyes studying her.

"Because of you, Hermione, I can honestly say I am mostly an optimistic pessimist at this point in time. I prefer to live day to day, rather than focus too much on the future. And today—my life is almost perfect. More perfect than it has ever been. You have a lot to do with that."

Snape straightened, walked over to his writing desk and put the parchment in the top drawer. He looked up at Hermione.

"I am going flying now. I've done my studying for the day, so you'll have time to yourself," he informed her.

"Will you hunt?" she asked him as he walked toward the door.

"I don't know. That will probably depend on whether or not I see another stag. I think I've developed a taste for them. I will probably be back late, so you'll have to see yourself to Gryffindor tower."

Hermione looked slightly disappointed at this. Snape gave her a small smirk. He noticed her disappointment, but didn't say anything other than good-bye and left. The wall closed behind him and Hermione frowned slightly, then opened her book rather viciously.

"What am I getting my knickers in a wad about? He's just doing what he likes to do. He doesn't have to hang around me all the time. He's free to do what he wants, and I need to study," she told herself firmly. "So he's going flying. He's a Gryffin. Gryffins fly."

Hermione focused on her work with a vengeance. Although she got a lot accomplished by the time arrived for her to leave, she was aware that she was feeling out of sorts.

Aware that she missed Snape's presence.

"Blast and bother," she hissed, gathering up her notes and parchments and storming out of his quarters, angry at herself for being so divided at a time when she needed to be focused. The NEWTs were supposed to be her main focus, not Severus bloody Snape.

She returned to Gryffindor house in an absolutely foul mood. Well, not completely foul. When she exited the dungeons, she saw Peeves loosening the bolts on one of the chandeliers in the entrance hall and blasted him, setting his trousers on fire and sending him howling, black smoke trailing behind him. Unlike ghosts, Peeves had a true physical form when visible. One that could be hexed. And hurt.

"Stupid poltergeist," Hermione hissed as she stomped up the stairwell.

That ought to teach him to keep his wide mouth shut.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy blinked at the missive he'd received from Snape's solicitor.

"Is he serious? Boleskin house? My word. That place is brimming with Dark Magic," the pureblood said to himself. Narcissa was seated near him, drinking an aperitif.

"Does that really surprise you, Lucius?" she asked him. "Severus has always gravitated to the Dark Arts. That house is quite off the beaten track. No one willingly goes there. Perhaps he wants solitude."

"I doubt he finds it there. Demons and ghosts abound. It will be a wonder if he can even stay one night," Lucius said, taking a sip of the Firewhiskey he was holding in his hand. "But if that's what he wants, I will provide it."

* * *

"Boleskin 'ouse? Tha's where Nessie's at!" Hagrid exclaimed to Hermione, who had made time for a cup of tea with him before going to Snape's quarters. They sat in his cramped, crowded caretaker's hut. No matter how much Minerva tried to get him to move into the castle, Hagrid would refuse. Too stuffy in there.

"Nessie?" Hermione inquired.

"Yeah! Nessie. Tha' Loch Ness Monster," Hagrid said fondly. "Yeh know, she's caused some problems fer tha Ministry of Magic a while back. Kept breakin' tha International Code of Wizardin' Secrecy when she kept gettin' sighted. I offered ta put 'er in the Hogwarts lake but they weren't sure how she'd git along wit' the squid. Pity, really. She's not a monster. Jest a water horse is all."

"She sounds fascinating."

"She is. Shure would like ta see 'er again. Maybe Snape'll let me visit."

"You can ask him."

"I think I will, b'for graduation. How yeh doin' wit' yer NEWTs?"

"Good. I get a lot of study time in," Hermione said.

"Don' see 'ow yeh do it, Hermione. Eleven NEWTS. Got ta be a record."

"It is," Hermione agreed finishing her tea.

Hagrid gave her a whiskery smile.

"If'n anyone kin pull it off, it's our 'Ermione," he said confidently. "More tea?"

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said with a smile, holding out her cup. Sometimes visiting Hagrid was like eating good chocolate

Hagrid was one of the few people who could always manage to lift Hermione's spirits. He honestly believed in her abilities and never once told her something couldn't be done. Not once. No matter how difficult the situation or plan was, the half-giant always said the same thing.

If anyone could pull it off, she could.

And sometimes, Hermione just needed to hear that.

* * *

A/N: Ah, Boleskin House, the mansion where Aleister Crowley was said to do his rituals. Everything I've written about the house and Crowley is supposed to be factual, or as factual as magic can get. Lol. It sounds like an interesting place for Severus to hole up in. Thanks for reading.


	59. Ron and Hermione Clear the Air

**Chapter 58 ~ Ron and Hermione Clear the Air**

Hermione only saw Severus for a few minutes each day during the week. He was spending more time in his Animagus form, exploring his limits and a lot of time in the Herbology area, working with his plant in secret. But, he had also taken to leaving books out for Hermione from his library that he thought were interesting to help her study and write her papers, as well as leaving small Pensieves of his experiences as a Gryffin.

He spent his days working and reviewing for his NEWTs, but it was the evenings he enjoyed best, out flying around the countryside. The first three days, Hermione felt a bit put off by how he was acting, how focused he was on his own work, but with the books he left and the Pensieves, she began to get back into her flow.

Thursday night, when she returned to Gryffindor tower she found two bottles on her nightstand. One was shampoo and the other was conditioner. There was a simple note with them, written in tight, rather cramped and spiky penmanship.

I made these for you. Try them.

Severus

Hermione curiously opened the cap on the shampoo and sniffed it. It smelled slightly of jasmine. The conditioner did as well.

"I guess he likes the scent of jasmine," she said to herself as she began to undress.

Hermione entered the shower and washed her hair, using the shampoo. The first thing she was aware of was a pleasant tingling on her scalp, then the rich, foaming lather. She felt something magical happening as she rinsed her hair. Then she used a dollop of the conditioner, combing it through from the roots to her split ends, which were immediately repaired. She let the conditioner set for a minute or two, then rinsed it out. She finished washing, exited the shower and dried off, putting on her nightgown.

Her hair was very clean, but still damp so she didn't notice any change when she dried it with a towel. She'd stopped using magic to dry it, because it only made it more bushy-looking. Now it looked a bit more manageable, but it always did after a washing. In the morning when she brushed it, it would turn back into the bristly mass she was used to.

"Thanks for trying, Severus," she said softly as she slid into bed.

*********************************************

The next morning Ron, Harry and Ginny were in the Great Hall having breakfast when the doors opened. Neville was a perpetually nosy individual, so was the first to look up to see who entered.

"Would you take a look at that?" Neville breathed.

"Wot?" Ron said around a mouthful of toast then looked toward the door, as did most of the students. A piece of toast fell out of Ron's mouth as Hermione walked toward them.

It almost seemed to be one of those slow motion, bouncy-hair commercials with the cool music as Hermione headed for her usual spot, her brown hair curling and bouncing healthily, catching little sun rays streaming through the windows. It looked beautiful, as if she'd gone to a salon or at least spent hours taming and styling it.

"Wow," Harry exclaimed as Hermione slung her backpack on the floor and sat down between Harry and Ron as if she'd never stopped doing it. She pulled a plate toward her.

"Your hair, Hermione. It looks great!" Harry continued.

Hermione patted her hair lightly as if surprised that Harry even noticed it.

"Oh, this? Well—it's nothing really—" Hermione responded, smiling a bit. Then "Ow! What are you doing?"

Ron was still holding on to her hair after reaching over the table and giving it a good tug.

"I just wanted to see if it was a wig," he said, grinning at her evilly. He knew it wasn't a wig but it was clear Hermione came to breakfast just to show off her new do.

Hermione slapped his hand away as others around them chuckled a little.

"Of course it's my hair, you git. Stop trying to pull it out by the roots!"

"It looks really nice, Hermione," Ginny said as Harry stared at its lushness. "Did you finally find a charm to manage it properly?"

"No. Actually, Severus brewed a shampoo and conditioner based on my hair type. It works quite nicely, don't you agree?"

"Yes," Harry and Ginny replied together.

"St. Severus again," Ron muttered.

"Oh Ron, stop being jealous," Hermione said to him.

"I'm not jealous. I'm just tired of hearing about how great he is."

"I didn't say he was great."

"Anyone who can tame that hair has to be considered great, Hermione. That's an accomplishment, believe me. Almost NEWT worthy"

Ron had to dodge the donut Hermione threw at him, but he was expecting it. Hermione sobered.

"Speaking about Severus, I wanted to talk to all of you about something concerning him," she said in a low voice. "He might need our assistance after graduation."

"Why?" Harry asked as Neville sidled closer. Hermione frowned at him and pointedly cast the Muffliato charm so neither he nor anyone else would hear their conversation.

Hermione explained to them about Lord Malfoy's offer of patronage and how Snape accepted it and would be living in the Boleskin house. She paused dramatically after she said it, but Ron, Harry and Ginny just stared at her blankly.

"Aleister Crowley?" she pressed. Still, blank stares.

"Gods, don't you people read? Aleister Crowley was a sorcerer who once owned Boleskin house. Either he was a very good sorcerer or a very bad one, because the house is supposed to be chock full of left-over demons and other dark creatures. Severus is dead set on staying there and I think he's going to need help binding all those 'things.' So, do you want to help us do it?"

Ron frowned at Hermione.

"Did Snape actually say he wanted anyone to come and bind demons, Hermione? Or is this something you came up with?" he asked his former girlfriend.

Hermione's eyes shifted guiltily.

"No. Absolutely not. I have other plans for my summer," Ron said, then he looked over at the Hufflepuff table dreamily, where Susan was chatting with her housemates. "And it doesn't have anything to do with binding demons."

"I think you'd rather be binding Susan," Ginny said to her smitten brother.

"Working on it, at least," Ron said with a sigh. "She's absolutely perfect."

Ginny and Harry looked very uncomfortable. Ron and Hermione had just broken up and he was praising Susan right in front of her.

Hermione did feel a twinge of something. It wasn't exactly jealousy, more like incredulity that he'd be so willing to commit to a witch he barely knew.

Harry and Ginny discretely exited the spell so they wouldn't hear the argument that was bound to ensue.

"Ron, you've just started dating Susan and you're already considering Binding? You barely know her. You're always rushing into things," she chided him.

Of course, Snape confessing his love to her within just weeks of being youthened didn't register as rushed at all. Everyone knew how obsessive he'd been about Harry's mother, so it was just his nature to fall head over heels in love with Gryffindor witches. Sort of. Well, it was a workable theory anyway. But Ron? No. He wasn't that way—he just didn't think things through when strong emotions was involved--

"I'm not rushing into anything. I know a good thing when I see it, Hermione, and Susan's a good thing."

"Why, because she cooks? That's nothing to base a relationship on, Ron. There are other areas you might not be compatible in. You have to take time before you make a commitment. Get to know her before you think about binding with her."

Ron frowned at her.

"I've known Susan since we came to Hogwarts, Hermione. She's a nice witch. She can cook, but there are other things about her. She's thoughtful for one thing, and kind. She's smart, too. She helped me figure out some things about my Animagus form and everything. And, we're compatible in other ways too—"

Here Ron looked a bit goofy.

"Wow, are we compatible," he said again and Hermione looked rather shocked.

"Ron, you and Susan couldn't possibly have—have shagged already?" she asked him incredulously.

Ron looked at her and reddened slightly.

"Yeah, we did. But under extenuating circumstances," he said quickly. "There was a—a situation. I'd eaten something I shouldn't have, and it was an aphrodisiac. A strong one. If I didn't get relief, it would have been terrible. She did it to help me, Hermione."

Hermione just blinked at him, a strange feeling welling up inside her.

"And it was fantastic. I've never felt—"

Ron suddenly stopped, realizing he was comparing Susan and Hermione sexually.

But he'd already said enough.

"So, she was better than I was," Hermione said quietly.

"Well, I didn't exactly say that, but—shagging was never that good, either with you or Lavender, Hermione. I'm just being honest—"

Hermione felt highly insulted.

"Well, maybe if you had been more creative, and not acted like a nervous prat, I would have been more—more reciprocal and enjoyed it better," she snapped back at him.

"What? What do you mean more creative? You were a bloody virgin, Hermione. What did you expect me to do? Climb all over you like you didn't have any feelings? And reciprocal? How would I know you'd be willing to—"

Suddenly, Ron stopped talking and stared at Hermione, who began to flush

"You've shagged Snape, haven't you? He's your boyfriend," Ron said accusingly.

"No, he's not my boyfriend," Hermione replied, her face crimson under Ron's blue eyes.

"But you've shagged him," he declared.

Hermione didn't answer him.

"Oi. You tell me not to rush into anything and you go and cock your legs for Snape in just a couple of days. Nice, Hermione. Really nice. And he didn't even have to make a commitment to you."

"It's not like that, Ron," she said softly, but Ron's eyes were accusatory.

"You didn't have time for me, Hermione but made time to let Snape put your heels in the air," he said. "It's your right to do it. We aren't together anymore, but you really have a pair, Hermione. I'm not looking for someone just to shag. I'm looking for a wife. I'm willing to commit myself to a witch. Is Snape? No. And you just let him have his way—"

"It's not Severus. It's me. I don't want a boyfriend, Ron. Just—just someone to be there when I need him. There's no commitment because I don't want one. You know I don't, Ron. There's so much I want to do, and a committed relationship would hold me back from that," she said. "I'm sure Severus would commit if I wanted him to, but I don't want him to do it."

Ron stared at her for a moment, then he let out a long sigh and his eyes softened.

"We had it all wrong from the beginning, didn't we, Hermione? What we wanted was the complete opposite of what we both needed. I need someone who wants to settle down and have a solid family life. You need someone who is just as driven and ambitious as you are. I wouldn't want what you and Snape have, because there isn't any future in it," he said.

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Hermione, I care about you. I'm always going to care about you. But, I'm worried that you're never going have the normal things in life that make it good and worthwhile. One day, you're going to wake up surrounded by all your accomplishments, and realize you don't have anything in your life that matters."

"You don't know that, Ron," Hermione said.

"No. I don't. But Hermione finding someone to love and love you back is more important than earning eleven NEWTs and having a great career."

"There's plenty of time for love, Ron. I'm young, too young to tie myself down with someone when there's so much I want to do. I need to be free in order to pursue my dreams. I think companionship and friendship is more important than love right now."

"So, that's what you and Snape are? Friends?"

"And companions, yes. It seems to be working for us, too," Hermione said, not adding that Snape believed himself to be in love with her. Ron would have taken that and used it against her.

"So Snape thinks the way you do, does he?" Ron asked her.

"Basically. Yes," she replied, trying not to shift her eyes.

Ron studied her.

"Well, I hope you both will be happy, Hermione. But do me a favor—"

"What Ron?" Hermione asked him.

"Don't try to dictate to me about love when you have no understanding about it, all right? What I want and what you want are completely different. You might be intelligent Hermione, but in some things, you're not smart at all," Ron told her firmly. "Susan's worth pursuing seriously. You're—not because you're in a completely different place. Hermione's World. One day, you're going to have to leave that planet because it only has a population of one. Now, I have to go and walk Susan to class. I'll see you later."

Ron pulled out his wand and removed the Muffliato spell. He looked at Harry and Ginny.

"I have to go wait for Susan," he told them. "I'll meet you in class, Harry. Bye, Ginny."

And he left the Great Hall, Hermione looking down at her empty plate.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked her.

She looked at him and sighed.

"I'm fine, Harry. Just fine."

* * *

A/N: I kind of rushed through this chapter a bit. I'm babysitting the twins (7 weeks), Trinity (11 months) and little Terrill (3 years) so I have my hands full. I started this chapter this morning and finally managed to finish. I'll be up to my neck in diapers and bottles for the rest of the day. Sigh. Well, it's all part of being grandma, isn't it? Thanks for reading.


	60. Changing the Rules

**Chapter 59 ~ Changing the Rules**

Later that evening, Snape dropped a bomb on Hermione. She entered his quarters and he was waiting for her, his dark eyes on her curling hair.

"I see the shampoo and conditioner worked," he observed.

Hermione self-consciously patted her hair.

"Yes, it did. Thank you, Severus."

"You're very welcome. I'm going to give you the formula so you can brew it yourself when I'm not available," the wizard said.

Hermione nodded as she removed her knapsack and took her things out of the various cubbyholes. She was in work mode again. Snape watched as she sat down, dipped her quill into the inkwell and started writing on a parchment. He felt a little forgotten.

Still, he needed to talk to her about something very important. He cleared his throat loudly. Hermione frowned, but didn't stop writing. He cleared his throat again, even louder this time and Hermione whirled on him, irritated.

"Do you need a glass of water or something?" she asked him.

Snape frowned back at her.

"No, I don't need a glass of water. I was trying to get your attention. Hermione, I think we should devote this Sunday to something other than the usual non-academic activities," Snape said to a rather stunned Hermione.

Hermione immediately put the quill down.

"What?" she asked him, not sure she heard what she thought she'd heard.

"Well, I've been thinking about it during the week, and I think that scheduling our encounters takes away from the spontaneity of the whole thing," the wizard informed her. "Familiarity breeds contempt or at least less appreciation. I don't want that to happen with us."

Hermione scowled up at him.

"But I thought you wanted—needed more time with me," she said to him, a bit taken aback by his attitude. Weekly sex had seemed the perfect answer to their dilemma at the time. Had he grown bored already? No, he couldn't have. He loved their last encounter, that much had been clear.

"I do, but I just don't think that time should be all about sex all the time," he said carefully. "There are other ways for us to spend intimate time together, such as you and I going flying together or maybe even out to eat or to a movie or visiting interesting places."

"But I like knowing when we're going to shag," Hermione said. "It takes the guesswork out of it."

"You're missing the whole point, Hermione. That's what can make it lose its—its fire. You have it all mapped out like a routine part of your studies. "

"Well, you didn't mind it when I suggested it," Hermione snapped at him.

"I was starved for you at the time I agreed. I would have agreed to nearly anything to have you in my arms again," Snape said to her softly. "But now, I want a little more—"

"More? It sounds like less to me," Hermione replied.

Snape sat down beside her and gently took one of her hands, his black eyes intense as he looked at her scowling face.

"Just hear me out, Hermione. We can still have the time, but what if we just spread it out a little, over other days than just Sundays?"

"But, then how will we know when we'll—"

"We won't know, Hermione. One of us would have to convince the other—maybe even seduce the other when the mood hits. I'd like the opportunity to seduce you. It would be good practice for my romantic skills," Snape said persuasively. "And if you felt like being intimate, you could just tell me or better, show me. It would be much better than a scheduled Sunday night. Can't you see it?"

Hermione could see it, but still.

"That would wreak havoc on my schedule, Severus," she told him.

Snape shrugged.

"You could adjust it. We'd just have to note the time spent, that's all. We have a basic time of four hours together on Sunday. I'm sure you adjust your schedule all the time. It has to be second nature by now."

"I don't know Severus. This sounds very invasive, time-wise."

"Actually, Hermione, I think you would learn to like it. The unpredictability factor. Can't we at least try it for a week or two? Please?"

Hermione looked at him. He was so much different now. As an adult, Hermione couldn't have ever imagined him saying please and meaning it. When he used it as a professor, it was always accompanied by something snide or demeaning, such as

"Please don't blow your cauldron up, Mr. Longbottom. I have neither the time nor inclination to deliver you to the infirmary this morning. I have paperwork to catch up on."

Still, it was rather disarming to hear him use the word.

"I—I don't know—"

"Please, Hermione. Just a trial run," he implored her, tightening his hold on her hand slightly, willing her to give in.

Hermione was conflicted, but she still had a rather soft heart, especially concerning Snape. She sighed.

"Oh—all right. But just for a week," she told him.

Snape smiled then pulled her forward, kissing her for a few seconds then letting her go.

Flushed and surprised, Hermione colored.

"Severus!" she exclaimed.

"Expect quite a bit of that," he said, smiling at the witch. "Spontaneity."

"Just because I agreed to try this, doesn't mean you can swoop down on me and steal kisses whenever you like," Hermione declared. Clearly, he wasn't the least bit deterred by her declaration.

"Actually, it does, if I can get away with it. But, inversely, you have the same right. There will be many opportunities for paying me back for my audacity."

Hermione couldn't help smiling a little. He did have nerve.

"So, since we probably won't be shagging on Sunday and will still have private time, what do you want to do?"

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly.

"How about having our duel—unless two days is too short of a notice for you. You might need a week to bone up," he purred at her.

"That sounds fine," Hermione retorted. "But what are we going to do for the rest of the evening after I take you out?"

"I'll probably spend it feeding you healing and pain potions," Snape replied with an arched eyebrow.

"We'll see about that," Hermione growled at him, pulling her hand away from his and picking up her quill again.

"We certainly will," Snape agreed.

* * *

"What? You're dueling Snape on Sunday? Oh, Hermione, I want to watch," Harry said over lunch Saturday, between Hermione's tutoring lessons. Ginny looked interested too, but Ron wasn't registering it. He had plans with Susan all this weekend.

"No, it's going to be a closed duel, Harry. I can't afford any distractions."

"I'll put a Silencing spell on myself, Hermione. You won't hear a peep out of me."

"No, Harry. This time it will be just me and him."

Harry pouted at this. He felt it would be a great duel.

Just then, a black and grey owl flew into the Great Hall carrying a small package. Owl post didn't usually run on Saturdays, so everyone noticed it. The owl oriented on Hermione and circled overhead. It dropped the small package in front of her and flew off.

"What's that, Hermione?" Ron asked.

She looked up at him in irritation.

"I won't know until I open it, Ron. Really," she snapped at him as she undid the brown wrapping, then pulled open the lid and looked down into the box. She frowned immediately, and closed the lid.

"He has some nerve," she seethed.

"Let us have a look, Hermione," Ron said. Hermione pushed the box over to him. Ron opened it, looked in, then started laughing uproariously.

"It's not funny," Hermione fumed.

"What is it, Ron?" Harry and Ginny both asked together.

Smiling broadly, Ron reached into the box and pulled out three items: a roll of bandages, some healing salve and a small tube of wand epoxy to fix broken wands. There was a little note that read:

"Hermione, here's your pound of cure since there will be no possible chance of prevention."

The note wasn't signed, but it was clear who had sent it.

Snape.

Harry and Ginny started laughing too, as Hermione reddened.

"I'll fix him," she muttered, leaving the Great Hall in a hurry as her friends laughed after her.

"Snape's great," Harry chortled as Hermione stormed out of the door.

* * *

Snape was listening to the classical wizarding wireless station and reading one of his books when a knock sounded on his office door. He smirked, thinking it was Hermione. She must have received his little gift.

He quickly exited his study and opened the office door. He could smell Hermione, but didn't see her in the dungeon corridor. His brow furrowed, then he looked down and saw a shoebox-sized package. Ah, she must have left this for him. No doubt Hermione was playing a little tit for tat. He picked it up and returned to his study, eyeing the package. He wondered what little goodies she'd packed for him.

Snape pulled off the wrapping and found a note and another wrapped package inside.

The note read: You're going to need this. Try it on for size.

Hm. What was it? A sling perhaps? Not very creative.

Snape picked up the package. It was soft. He opened it--

Suddenly there was a flash of bright light as the contents of the package expanded, wrapped around him and hardened within seconds, only his nose and eyes visible before he toppled over.

Hermione had sent him a one-size fits all full body cast and charmed it to apply itself to whoever opened the package up.

"Damn that witch," Snape hissed as he lay helplessly on his back. He was unable to move at all. She had sealed him in tight. Suddenly, the cast burst away from his body as he transformed into his gryffin form, then back to human form.

He looked at all the plaster strewn around.

"Gods, she's brilliant," he breathed as he started Scourgifying the mess.

* * *

Hermione finished her last tutoring session by the lake, her dazed pupils loaded down with material to review and have completed by next Saturday. They slowly headed for the castle, Hermione taking a little extra time to collect her things. She had just closed her knapsack and stood up, when suddenly she was grabbed in a bear hug from behind, her arms pinned to her sides so she couldn't draw her wand.

She started struggling until she heard a soft, familiar voice say, "I imagine you thought your little gift funny."

She relaxed immediately and the arms loosened, turning her and she looked up at a very sober Severus Snape.

"I just thought you might want to get a bit used to it. I'm surprised to see you out and about. I was coming to release you," she told him with a grin.

"I released myself, thank you," he said with a growl.

"How? That cast was solid plaster. You couldn't bend your limbs to reach your wand. You shouldn't have been able to move at all."

"No, I couldn't move, but I could transform," he replied evenly.

"Oh," Hermione said, a bit of disappointment in her voice. She hadn't thought about that as a method of escape.

"And you sent me that package more than three hours ago, so I can only surmise that you intended to leave me wrapped up like a petrified mummy for at least that long," Snape breathed at her. "You are a vindictive little witch. I'm not sure you belong in Gryffindor at all."

"You made me angry. Harry, Ron and Ginny all laughed when they saw what you sent me," she responded. "So I had to one up you with my own 'gift.'"

"Ah, the sin of pride. It suits you," Snape said, then kissed her soundly, backing Hermione into a large boulder. Hermione was shocked at first, but it was such a nice, hot kiss that she just melted into it, wrapping her arms around Snape's neck. They went at it hot and heavy, Snape caressing her body gently, heating the witch up.

"We could do it now, Hermione," he breathed. "I could bend you over this stone and lift your robes—I'd be good. I'm so hard."

Hermione blinked at him, her belly ablaze. But no, no she couldn't shag him on the Hogwarts grounds in broad daylight, especially bent over a boulder. What if someone walked up on them? Snape pressed his erection against her, covering her mouth again, not letting her speak before he tried to turn her around to face the boulder.

"No! We can't. We'd get caught," she said to him, fighting the urge. He managed to get her facing the boulder.

"I'll Disillusion us," Snape whispered against her ear, "and cast a Silencing spell. It would be exciting, wouldn't it? Out here in the open air—you and me. Think of how good it would feel, Hermione. How wicked it would be—you know you're a naughty girl—I can smell you. You want to do it."

He began to fish in his pocket for his wand.

"No! Severus, you devil! No! Now you let me go right now!" she hissed, pushing back from the boulder and spinning on him.

Snape gave her a crooked smile.

"You see how exciting this is, Hermione? How hot? I didn't think you'd let me shag you, but it was fun trying—you have to admit that. It turned you on. You're still turned on," he said softly.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that I conduct myself like a lady," she responded, angrily fixing her robes although there was nothing wrong with them.

Both of Snape's eyebrows rose.

"A lady? With me? I think it's a little late for that," he responded without thinking. The dark look Hermione gave him made him aware that wasn't the best thing to say.

"I mean, you are a lady, Hermione, but all woman when it comes to intimacy," he said quickly, pulling her against him in an attempt to appease her sense of outrage. "I love that about you."

Hermione looked up at him then shook her head and gave him a little smile.

"You're good on the save, I'll give you that, Severus," she said and the wizard nearly slumped with relief. "But you won't be shagging me on any boulders."

"All right," Snape replied, thinking there were a lot of other places in Hogwarts that they could shag. If he could get her to give in at least once, he was sure he'd be able to get her to do so again.

When Snape made the suggestion that they abandon just Sunday nights, he was really setting up his little plan to break Hermione out the rigid confines of their lover agreement and set her up to accept him as something more. Her response to him today was very heartening, even if she wouldn't have sex with him. The desire had plainly been there and that meant she was off the Sunday clock already.

"I'm on my way to supper, Severus," she told him. "Do you want to join me?"

Snape studied her.

"I believe I will," he replied.

The couple received a few very surprised stares when they entered the Great Hall and Snape joined Hermione, Harry and Ginny at the Gryffindor table.

"Hi Severus!" Harry exclaimed with a bright smile.

"Potter," he said shortly, drawing a plate toward him and starting to fill it. Hermione was a little red at all the attention they were getting as the other Gryffindors and houses zeroed in on them. Snape ate as if he didn't notice.

The Slytherins were all frowning at his back. He might not be active in Slytherin, but the least he could do was join his house table if he were going to eat in the Great Hall. Sitting with Gryffindors. Disgusting.

"He used to hate them," Pansy said. "Now he's a part of their group."

Draco shook his head.

"I don't think he's part of it, Pansy. But I do think something is going on with him and Granger. That's why he's associating with her friends," the pureblood said.

"Ew. That's just sick. Granger's shagging Snape?" Pansy said, a look of disgust on her face.

"I don't know if they're shagging, but it's obvious they're close. I heard they're studying together for the NEWTs, and Granger has full access to his library."

Draco's voice was low, but it still carried. Someone heard what he said and perked up immediately. It was Lisa Turpin, the Ravenclaw and Hermione's main adversary in several NEWTs.

"Snape's library?" she mused. She hadn't even thought about the books the former Potions master was supposed to own. Granger had access to them? Well, if she could get access, maybe Lisa could, too. She had always made good marks in Potions under Snape, and even if he didn't remember her, she might be able to persuade him to let her look at a book or two from his library. Why only Granger? Perhaps she could even pay him for the privilege.

It was a thought, anyway. Maybe she'd stop by his quarters after supper.

All he could say was no.

* * *

"No," Snape said flatly to the blonde, blue-eyed Ravenclaw at his door.

"But, Mr. Snape—"

"My name is Severus. We're the same age," he said darkly.

"But—but Severus, using your library would help me get higher NEWT marks. I'd be willing to pay you," Lisa said.

"No, they aren't available for public use," he told her. "Now, good evening."

Snape tried to close the office door, but Lisa determinedly held it open.

"That's not remotely fair. You let Hermione Granger use your library. Why not me?"

"That's quite easy to answer. You are not Hermione Granger," he replied coldly. "Hermione helped me when I needed it most. Letting her use my library is my way of thanking her. I've never even seen you before. I don't know you."

"Well, you can get to know me. I'm just as smart and talented as Granger is. Even more so," Lisa said.

Snape blinked at her and was about to answer when a cold voice said, "That remains to be seen, Lisa, after the NEWT marks come out."

Both Snape and Lisa turned to see Hermione glaring back at them.

"If you do score higher than me, Granger, it will only be because you have an unfair advantage," Lisa shot back at her nemesis.

"Yes. The same one I've had my entire duration at Hogwarts," Hermione replied with narrowed eyes. "That of being a better student. I haven't always had access to Severus' library and still beat out your marks."

Lisa stared back at her, then looked at Snape.

"You could help us settle this. If you gave me access to your books, then we'd be on level ground," she told him. "We could settle this once and for all."

Snape cocked his head at her.

"Are you taking eleven NEWTs?" he asked the Ravenclaw.

"No. I'm taking six."

"Then, if you're as brilliant as you claim yourself to be, you'd realize there is no way you can beat Hermione out because of the sheer volume of her studies. I had mistakenly challenged her myself. Even if you received Outstandings in all of your NEWTS, Hermione could outscore you if she only made seven out of eleven. I am sure she'll be able to do that, even if you did have access to my books. I suggest you bow out with grace, rather than try to force your way into my library. It won't help you."

Lisa stared at him for a moment, then a look of defeat washed across her face as Hermione looked at her smugly. The Ravenclaw scowled at her.

"You know, there's something wrong with you, Granger. No one takes eleven NEWTs. You just have to be the best at everything, don't you?" she asked Hermione witheringly.

"Yes. Yes, I do," Hermione replied, her brown eyes glinting.

"Someone's going to knock you off your pedestal one day. I hope I'm around to see it," Lisa said coldly, sticking her nose in the air and stalking up the dungeon corridor, both Hermione and Snape looking after her.

"I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer, Hermione," Snape said as he watched the Ravenclaw storm off.

"Why?"

"Because that witch is far more annoying than you are," he answered, shaking his head.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	61. A Bit of an Issue

**Chapter 60 ~ A Bit of an Issue**

"I—I can't believe you were actually standing in the doorway chatting Lisa up like that," Hermione hissed angrily at Snape as they walked into his private quarters. Snape looked incredulously at her back as she threw herself in the chair before the desk, thought twice, stood up and took out her things, then threw herself back into the chair, arranging her workspace angrily.

"Chatting her up? What in the world do you mean I was chatting her up?" he asked her as he walked over. "I wasn't 'chatting' anyone up. I was trying to close the door."

Hermione snorted as she viciously stabbed her quill into an inkwell.

"All you had to say was no and close the door. But you didn't. You stood there—talking to her."

Snape still looked incredulous.

"She held the door open, Hermione. What did you expect me to do? Slam her fingers in it?"

Hermione scowled up at him.

"Yes! Well—no. But I'm sure you could have cleared her out if you made an effort to do it. You two were talking the entire time I was walking down the corridor. At least two minutes—"

"You were timing how long I talked to her?"

Hermione colored.

"No. It was just—just an estimation. Why didn't you just tell her we're exclusive? That would have settled everything!"

Snape studied her, one eyebrow arching. Then he walked around her and sat down in the chair next to her. Hermione turned her head to look at him. She looked absolutely furious.

Snape blinked at her a couple of times.

"Well, why didn't you tell her that?" Hermione demanded of him.

Snape shrugged.

"It just wasn't a word that came to mind talking about—about books," he said softly.

"Well, it should have come to mind. Imagine the nerve, coming down here and asking for access to your books when she knows I'm using them. I'm surprised she didn't ask to document your Animagus form as well, or for some potions pointers," Hermione said. "Next time she or anyone else does that, I expect you to say that only I have access to your resources. Me. Exclusively."

Hermione opened a book, frowning down at it.

"I need to get back on track. Lisa sniffing around here isn't good. Not in the least," she said, focusing.

"It's a good thing she didn't ask me to lunch," Snape ventured, a small smirk on his face.

Hermione looked up at him.

"Lunch?"

"Yes. She could have been interested in me, rather than my books," he said softly. "What would you have had me tell her if that was the case?"

Hermione blinked back down at her books.

"That wasn't the case, so there's no need for speculation," she responded tersely.

"Would you be jealous?" Snape pressed her.

"Severus, I'm trying to work here."

"Would you be? I'd be jealous if a wizard asked you out to lunch, or dinner, or even for a turn around the castle," the wizard said softly. "I'd be worse than jealous. I'd want to hex him into little wriggling pieces."

"I'm not you, Severus. I am jealous over my interests. Your books and resources," she said a bit uncomfortably, looking as if the book in front of her was the most interesting book she'd ever seen. Suddenly, she felt Snape's fingers gently grasp her chin and turn her face toward him.

"Do you mean to tell me, Hermione, that it wouldn't bother you if a witch attempted to get my personal attention? If she wanted to go out with me? Or shag me?"

Hermione didn't answer him at first, her brown eyes turning downward so she wouldn't have to meet his intense black orbs.

"Answer me," he said softly.

"You're free to do what you want, Severus," she said in a near whisper.

"That's not answering my question, Hermione. I'm asking you how you would feel about it, not what I can do or not do," he replied. "Would it bother you?"

Hermione thought about the intimate moments they shared, the mutual pleasure, the exciting explorations and discoveries they'd made about each other. Snape had never been with another witch they way he had been with her, and there were things she'd done with and to him she'd never done with any other wizard. To top it all off—he said he loved her, and he meant it.

Would it bother her to imagine him with another witch, doing the things they did together. Hell yes, it would bother her.

"A little," she said softly.

"A little?"

"Yes. Now, let me get back to my work, Severus."

He let go of her chin and slowly stood up.

"You know, you're never going to have to worry about that, Hermione. As long as you want me, no other witch will ever catch my eye. You're all I can see," he said softly.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she felt the sweetest little sting in her heart, followed by a flush of warmth that flowed over her body. It was almost like a flush of desire, but that was physical and began between her legs, not heart. This was something completely different.

Different and a little frightening.

"I have work to do, Severus," she said quietly, not looking up at him as he continued to stare down at her.

"All right. I'm going to go, but I wanted to ask you if the rules of engagement for the duel are the same. Three spells for you if you win and—something else for me if I am victorious," he said.

"Three spells for me," Hermione replied, smirking slightly as she didn't acknowledge Snape's possible reward.

"Oh, that's how it is, is it? You're that sure of yourself?"

"Working," Hermione responded, still focused on the book.

Suddenly, she felt Snape's soft lips brush against her temple. Then she heard him walk away and the wall slide up. Snape turned and looked at Hermione apparently poring over her book.

He smirked a bit, then said, "I don't expect to see you until tomorrow evening. Meet me here at seven after supper. Bring your wand, and of course, bandages."

Hermione jerked around in her chair to respond but Snape darted through the wall and it slid down quickly.

"Oh, he can be so insufferable," she breathed, then made herself focus on her work. Otherwise, much of the night would have been spent mulling over her relationship with Severus. The NEWTs were more important.

Well, that's what she told herself.

* * *

When Snape emerged from the dungeons into the entrance hall, he was immediately waylaid by one Harry Potter.

"Snape!" he called, hurrying over to the wizard. Harry had been lurking about hoping to see him. Word around the castle was Snape left nearly every evening to go flying in his gryffin form. Actually, it was only partially true. He also was collecting ingredients and nurturing his surly Hell's Guardian plant, which was enormous by now.

"Hello, Potter," Snape said, stopping as Harry walked up to him with an anxious smile on his face.

"I wanted to ask you if it would be all right for me to watch you and Hermione duel tomorrow?" he asked.

Snape arched an eyebrow at him.

"Why didn't you ask Hermione? You had time with her today," Snape replied curiously.

Harry slumped a little.

"Well, I did ask her, and she told me no," Harry said. "But you can let me watch you. She'll just—just be there."

Snape smirked and shook his head.

"If she said no, Potter, then I'm not going to say yes. It's obvious she just wants it to be one on one," Snape told him. "I'm sorry."

Harry sighed.

"Well, can you at least tell me where you're going to duel?"

"I've been considering the ROR," Snape replied.

"Oh. Yes, that's a good place. Our reviewing was great there. You ought to get a perfect dueling scenario," Harry said. "Well, I'd better go. Thanks Severus."

Harry walked up the marble stairwell, a smile on his face.

Snape watched him turn down the first floor corridor, and then turned to head out the doors. He knew Harry probably planned to hide in the ROR. The room would hide him when they came in, because that would be what Harry needed.

Too bad they wouldn't be there.

Snape made it to the doors and actually had his hand on one, when another voice called him. A much older one.

"Mr. Snape. I was hoping to see you," a smiling Argus Filch said, walking up to him jauntily, the spring still in his step.

"Hello, Mr. Filch. I see you're still in top form," Snape replied pleasantly, smiling back at the old squib.

"Better than top form if you ask me. I can't remember running down so many students in my younger years. The hunting at Hogwarts is good," Filch replied, fishing in his pocket. He pulled something out and offered it to Snape. It was a bag on a leather string.

Snape took it, turning it over as the strong scent hit him. To humans, normally the odor wasn't strong, but he had enhanced senses.

"Dragonsbane," he said to the caretaker, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yep. And not commercial Dragonsbane that you get at any shop. This is Keeper grade. Will keep dragons from coming within a quarter mile of you. I figure a gryffin might make a tasty snack for dragons, being they're mostly poultry, so I thought I'd give you that. You know, to make your flying a bit easier. It's just a thank you, boy."

Snape looked down at the bag appreciatively. It was difficult getting Dragon Keeper grade Dragonsbane. It was very difficult to harvest and it only grew at very high altitudes in dragon caves. In its natural form, it attracted dragons, but once treated, it became a powerful deterrent. Dragons hated the stuff.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Mr. Snape," the squib said, looking at him kindly. "Safe flying, laddie."

And Filch walked off, taking the marble stairs two at a time.

Snape put the Dragonsbane bag around his neck, walked outside and transformed. A couple of witches oohed and aahed at him, and he arched his neck, proudly posing for them for a moment before he ran and leapt into the air, circling over the pointing witches before he soared off, heading for the open sea and dragon territory, gulls joining him as he flew.

He wanted to see just how well the charm Filch had given him worked.

* * *

Susan walked arm and arm with Ron as they headed for Hufflepuff house, Ron smiling down at her goofily. She had him try out a few cakes today, some of which made him float for a few seconds. Unfortunately, he couldn't control his height or float direction, so Susan needed to work a bit more magic into the recipe.

Afterwards, they had a hot little snogging session, and Ron managed to get her to agree to a bit of a shag tomorrow night. The weekdays were better for shagging than the weekends when Filch was on the prowl. He was a lot faster these days than anyone remembered and seemed to be everywhere.

Still, the chance to shag Susan was worth dodging a thousand Filches.

Outside of Hufflepuff, Ron blissfully kissed Susan again, gathering her in his arms and pressing his lean frame against her soft, full body. She always felt so right.

"Now remember, we're to leave supper separately and meet at the ROR on the second floor tomorrow night at seven," Ron reminded her, his blue eyes hot. Susan blushed. They hadn't shagged since the oyster incident and Ron was raring to go. Susan had wanted to make him wait longer, but he was so eager and adorable, she decided what the hell. They had already done it once . . . and it was great.

"But Ron, what if the ROR isn't there?" Susan asked him softly.

"Oh, it'll be there. It comes where it's needed, and believe me, Susan, no one needs that room as much as we do," Ron assured her, looking forward to having her in a bed this time. It was going to be stellar.

He gave her one more kiss and watched as she entered Hufflepuff. Then he turned and headed back up the corridor, whistling a happy little tune.

Tomorrow night was going to be fantastic. It would be just him, Susan, soft lights, music—and if Snape had been right in his assumption, more than likely, Harry.

* * *

A/N: Ooh. Is Hermione jello? Lol, we call the word jealous, jello around here, because it's really annoying and funny when you tease someone. Seems she's starting to feel a twinge of something, doesn't it? Nice of Filch to give Snape that bag, and oh good gracious, is Harry REALLY going to be in the ROR tomorrow night? Lolol. We'll see.


	62. Clandestine Thoughts and Acts

Chapter 61 ~ Clandestine Thoughts and Acts

"No, Harry."

"Oh, come on, Ginny."

"No! Hermione said she didn't want anyone there, Harry. You should respect her wishes," Ginny told him, her arms folded as she scowled at him. They were sitting on a bench in a corridor on the first floor. Harry was trying to convince Ginny to come with him to watch the duel.

"But Ginny, aren't you the least bit curious to see who wins?" Harry asked her.

"Of course I am, but they'll tell us afterwards, Harry. You really shouldn't spy."

"It's in my nature to spy, Ginny. You know that."

"Well, I'll have nothing to do with it, Harry. And if Hermione turns you into something small and wriggly, it'll serve you right," Ginny said.

"They won't even know I'm there. The room will hide me," Harry said confidently.

"If you can even find the room."

"I'll find it, or, as badly as I want to see that duel, it will find me. I'm sure of it," the boy who lived declared. Ginny sighed.

"You still don't listen to people, Harry," she said, shaking her head.

Harry, who had been imagining the sparks flying between Snape and Hermione blinked at Ginny and said, "What?"

"I rest my case," Ginny hissed, standing up and walking away from him angrily.

"What?" Harry called after her, rising himself and following.

"What did I do?"

* * *

Hermione spent the first half of her day putting together her written Muggle Studies presentation for her NEWTs. Since she was Muggle-born and understood nuances that witches and wizards raised in the wizarding world didn't grasp, her success would be a no-brainer. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pages of research, she was absolutely sure she'd get an Outstanding, especially combined with the written test.

When she was satisfied with the finished product for Muggle Studies, Hermione took out her sketches of Severus and did a bit of inking on the best ones, cleaning them up. Her sketch work wasn't perfect but it was definitely passable. Hagrid had been a very patient instructor. She planned to use the gryffin sketches for both NEWTs. She had checked carefully and there was no rule against submitting similar presentations although the focus would be slightly different. Snape's form was so rare in the magical world as a real animal, that an Animagus form would do nicely.

She studied a drawing of Snape as a wizard pre-transformation. She stared at his eyes, looking straight back at her. Even in the sketch, they made her feel as if they could see inside of her. She carefully inked the sketch, focusing so she didn't make any mistakes. She set it down to dry, cocking her head at it.

She never imagined that she would be in this position with the former Potions master. How could she have ever imagined it? But here she was, sleeping with him—and liking it. She didn't dare think she loved it, because that would be too close to admitting she loved him. Love was a word she didn't have time for, not in that sense.

Her nostrils flared a bit as she thought about Snape asking her if she would be jealous if another witch wanted to shag him. Well, how would he expect her to feel? Having sex was a very intimate act after all and a person should only have one partner at a time, even if they weren't "technically" together. Each should still respect the other's feelings, right? It had nothing to do with being jealous really. No, not at all.

It was just—just good Quidditch to keep the partners down to one. Besides, there were all kinds of STDs out there, and one never knew what they were getting into when they started sleeping around. No, she wouldn't be jealous. She would just expect him to give any witch who wanted to play mattress-tag, a resounding NO. For both of their protection.

Having satisfactorily rationalized away her still obvious feelings of jealousy and possessiveness for Severus Snape, Hermione next set about plotting for the duel. The rules would have to be laid out plainly and she thought it would be best if the spells could only be used once, just like during the review. This way each person's skill and knowledge would be tested.

Pain would probably be involved. It always was in a good duel. Hermione had no doubt that Severus would cast a painful hex at her in a second, and he could count on her returning the favor sevenfold. Tonight was not the time to go soft. Besides, he was such an arrogant git every time he mentioned the duel.

Hermione growled a little at the thought of his smug, pale face, smirking at her loftily.

Let's see how smug and arrogant he'd be with the seat of his trousers on fire. She knew a pretty good spell that replicated a person being kicked in the arse. That would come in handy, too. Not every spell had to be crippling. Humiliating could work, too.

Hermione was very excited, but she knew she had to watch for Harry. He'd taken her "no" too easily. He'd definitely be lurking around. She'd keep an eye out for knee-high shimmers. Harry's cloak didn't cover him fully and even though Disillusionment wasn't allowed inside Hogwarts, that would make no difference to Harry. Not when he wanted something.

Hermione didn't worry the least bit about Ron, he was so smarmy over Susan. She would see them in the halls between classes, Ron with his arm around her waist, escorting her everywhere, being fed tidbits from her fingertips and trying to steal kisses all the time.

It was rather nauseating, and she'd zip by them quickly every time they popped into view.

And it had NOTHING to do with jealousy. She did feel a bit out of sorts when Ron declared his affection for Susan publicly, but that was just a bit of residual feeling for what they were trying to have, not what they actually had.

If this constant adulation and attention was the kind of relationship Ron really wanted with a witch, he was welcome to it. Hermione could never have dealt with a Ron so head over heels in love or lust. She was just glad their relationship hadn't been that way, or it couldn't have lasted as long as it did. It was like he was a male version of Lavender with Susan.

Brrrr.  
Hermione shuddered a little, then found even ground by thinking about Severus. She couldn't ever see him acting as goofy as Ron. He was solicitous, sneaky and seductive with his affections. Hermione imagined he wouldn't show the world his hand, just the object of his desire.

Which, incidentally, was her. Hermione felt a bit of warmth flow over her again, and once again it wasn't a sexual pulse, but something from the heart, just as intense and thrilling. Something she was fighting hard not to recognize. Not now. Now wasn't the time for it.

She didn't know if there would ever be a time for it.

* * *

Snape spent much of his day reading spell books. Not that he was learning new spells. He was good, but not that good. It required time to learn how to cast an unfamiliar spell, more than a few hours at any rate.

But he was reading the books because completely different spells might be utilized in an unexpected manner, so he was comparing and considering the possibilities. As much as he teased Hermione, he knew she could be dangerous and might actually manage to get the best of him if he wasn't on point. He seemed dismissive of her, but that was a ploy to keep her angry and wanting to prove herself.

In other words, he was keeping her emotions high and her logic low. Anger could make anyone misstep. Cool heads prevailed when dueling, although Snape could hardly claim to be a cool-headed duelist. Most of the time he was raging when he battled the Marauders and his ferocity actually helped him much of the time. They rarely ever faced him one on one, and when they did, either he got the best of his opponent, or it was a draw of sorts with no clear winner.

Snape slowly closed the book he was reading as he thought about James and his friends. Cowards. The whole lot of them. Like a pack of—of jackals, running up when they smelled blood and helplessness.

Rarely did Snape lose in a fair duel—but that didn't matter. What mattered was he was being constantly attacked in the first place.

The wizard's brow furrowed as his old hatred flared up again. They were all dead, but still he despised them deeply.

"I won't think of them," he muttered, turning his thoughts back to Hermione carnally. That always served to take his mind off of unpleasant things. He smirked a bit at how he backed her into a corner with his question about her being jealous.

He already knew the answer to that. If she were that covetous about his books, how much more covetous would she be about him when they did what they did together? As goal-oriented as she was, Hermione was a very passionate witch about everything she involved herself in, and she considered everything she involved herself in a part of her personal little kingdom, whether she recognized that fact or not.

And Snape was the Queen's consort.

Snape smiled as he imagined Hermione imperiously ordering Lisa's head chopped off for her audacity in approaching him. If Snape had been any other wizard, he might have considered pretending to be interested in another witch in order to get a rise out of Hermione or possibly force her to admit she wanted a closer relationship.

But Snape was not the kind of wizard to play with another's emotions that way. He knew what it was like to be led on, and he would never lead anyone on, unless it was of clear benefit. So many things could go wrong with such a scenario that it wasn't worth taking the chance. His best chance to get Hermione to recognize there was more than just casual sex going on between would be to actually address it while they were intimately involved, or during sex. Possibly pound it out of her.

That was a delicious thought, although Hermione had no problem telling him to ease off if he became too passionate. Usually she loved it, but there had been one or two times she pushed him off of her and took over herself so she could "moderate" the "activity."

Snape shook his head. She'd actually said that while climbing on top of him and sliding over his cock. Hermione was not only sexy and passionate, but funny as hell. Funnier still because she didn't know it.

Snape smiled and looked up at the time. It was going on five o'clock.

Only two more hours before Hermione would arrive. Then they could go to the place he had picked out.

If he won, he planned to claim his prize right then and there. How was that for spontaneous, Miss Granger?

* * *

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked Ginny as he shoveled food into his mouth. He tried not to pay any attention at all to Susan, who was eating her meal slowly. Soon, they'd be in private together.

Ginny shrugged, frowning a little.

"He said he had something to do," Ginny said, her voice irritated. She couldn't believe Harry was going to disregard Hermione wishes. But, then again, she really could believe it.

This was Harry, and Harry pretty much did what Harry wanted to do despite anyone's wishes, which was why he was also known as "the boy who almost died a few hundred times" between Ginny and Ron. It was an exaggeration, but not by much.

Now he was at it again. Ginny almost hoped a ricocheting spell would get him. It would serve him right for being so nosy.

"What are your plans for tonight, Ron?" his sister asked him.

Ron pressed his hand to his head.

"Susan told me I felt warm and probably have a bit of a fever. I'm going to go lie down and rest. Call it an early evening. Susan has some house stuff she needs to do, so she's going to be busy. I might as well get a little extra rest."

"Sounds good," Ginny replied as Susan got up and left the Great Hall. Ron remained seated as if he hadn't noticed. He played it off quite well, waiting for some other students to leave before rising and exiting the hall as well.

The deception appeared to have worked.

* * *

"All right, here's what I need," Harry said to the empty Room of Requirement. He had learned from Neville that the room had the ability to produce what you asked for if you did it clearly. So, he was taking no chances on missing a thing.

"When they enter, I need to be hidden but in a place where I can see and hear all the action and not be discovered. I want to be able to hear them, but I don't want them to hear me if I get too excited and yell something. I want to be completely undetectable and want to leave after they finish. Is that clear?"

Of course, there was no answer from the Room. Harry blinked around at it.

"I hope so. Hermione will be furious if she finds me here," Harry said. Suddenly, Harry found himself encased inside a wardrobe as a setting fuzzed in. He could see clearly out of the front of it as if there were no front. A king-sized bed appeared. It was covered in rose petals. This was followed by the winking in of floating candles which gave the room a warm romantic glow. Soft, sexy music started to play from nowhere.

"What? What is this?" Harry hissed.

Suddenly the wall opened and in walked Susan, who looked around the room with a pleased smile.

"Shit!" Harry hissed as Susan seemed to look right at him, but her brown eyes shifted away as she checked the firmness of the mattress. She didn't see him.

"Oh, bloody hell, I've got to get out of here. I can explain to Susan that I thought Hermione and Snape would be in here."

He tried to walk out of the wardrobe but found he couldn't.

"Hey! Let me out!" he cried to the room.

Susan didn't hear a peep.

"ROR. I command you to release me!" Harry yelled, not caring whether or not Susan heard him.

A sentence appeared in front of him, glowing slightly as it floated in mid-air.

"I want to be completely undetectable and want to leave after they leave."

"I meant Snape and Hermione, not Ron and Susan," Harry yelled desperately, but the words just faded and he was stuck in place.

"Oh no," he groaned as Ron entered the room, looked at Susan standing by the bed and practically tackled her, taking her down to the mattress. She giggled as he tore at her robes, pulling them open and staring down at her large blouse-encased breasts.

"Oh, I can't wait to put my head between those and just--just drown in titties, Susan. Your body is—is awesome, he breathed, falling forward and kissing her hungrily.

"Oh no . . . no," Harry groaned, covering his eyes, but he could still hear them, Ron commenting on Susan's fat juicy arse and thick, yummy thighs as they stripped quickly, ready for action.

There were some kissing noises, then silence for a moment. Harry peeked between his fingers long enough to see Susan on her knees in the bed, arse up and Ron on his knees behind her. They were both naked, and Ron plunged his face between her arse cheeks with a growl.

"Oooh, Ron!" Susan moaned, "Eat it, Ron—ooh. Yes! Eat it!"

"Oh—oh gods. Stun me! Obliviate me! Something!" Harry pleaded with the room, completely squicked at the moaning, sucking and licking going on out there. And then, then the scent hit him.

The smell of arousal is wonderful if you're the one aroused, but if you aren't—it's not a very nice scent coming off of someone else. It smelled musky—animal musky. Like sweat, pussy and male leakage. Again, that's only nice when its, well, you and your partner are the ones giving off the scent.

Harry turned a little green as slurping noises filled the room, very wet slurping noises and Ron's groans of pleasure, followed by some choking, gagging noises

Well, one thing was certainly clear during the couple's frenzied foreplay, and that was whatever caution Ron had with Hermione, he'd thrown completely out the window with Susan. And Harry was there to witness the depths of his best mate's lust and adventurousness.

"Why oh why didn't I listen to Ginny?" he moaned sliding down to a sitting position, his face in his hand as Ron exclaimed enthusiastically, "Come on, Susan. Sit on my face!"

* * *

A/N: lol. Ok, I couldn't go on, I can hardly see as it is, my eyes are so full of tears. I have to say this is no where near artfully written, but I'm just glad I was able to get it out at all! I think that's enough trauma for Harry for now.

A/N/N: I'd like to let readers know that I am releasing chapters of my **original novel, "At Shimmer's End" on my website**, theburningpen . com You can read the first five chapters for free, and if you'd like to continue reading you can make a donation of choice to receive the link and password to the rest of the chapters. It is still in progress but I have over 86,000 words completed and in chapter form. Ten chapters are up now, and I have 17 more ready to post. Once all the chapters are up I will start updating it and readers can follow. I'm trying to raise funds to help pay my daughter's car note before it's repossessed. With four children and job hunting she needs it, and I don't own a car myself and use hers to do my small personal errands. So if you like the story, please consider continuing to read it. Thanks and thanks for reading.


	63. The Duel

**Chapter 62 ~ The Duel**

At seven o'clock sharp, Hermione knocked on Snape's door. It was immediately opened and Snape stood there, looking down at her. She was dressed in traditional robes, her hair pulled back into a bun.

"Right on time," Snape said softly, leaning in to kiss her.

Hermione jerked back with a frown.

"Don't you try to disarm me, Severus Snape. No kisses. I have to stay focused on blasting you out of your robes," she told him.

Snape quirked an eyebrow.

"If you wanted me out of my robes, Hermione, you certainly wouldn't have to blast them off of me," he purred at her.

Hermione colored.

"Stop being—being seductive, Severus! It isn't the time for it!"

Hermione spun and started walking up the dungeon corridor. Snape warded the office door and followed her, thinking there was always time to be seductive. He caught up to her and Hermione noticed he wore a black satchel.

"What is that?" she asked him.

Snape looked down at the bag and patted it.

"Healing potion, pain potions, two extra sets of robes, some herbs for poultices, things of that nature. Just in case we need them," he replied.

"In case you need them," Hermione huffed. She was trying to stay in aggressive dueling mode.

Snape didn't respond as they exited the dungeons.

"Wait," Hermione said, stopping. She looked around carefully.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked her, looking around too.

"Looking for Harry. He's going to try to watch us duel. I know him," Hermione replied, frowning as she looked for knee-high shimmers.

"Potter is probably hiding out in the ROR waiting for us," Snape said. "I implied that's where we'd be dueling. But, it isn't. We're going someplace else."

Hermione smiled at him then. Harry was definitely in the ROR. Well, he wouldn't be seeing any dueling action tonight, that's for sure.

Harry might not see any dueling action between Snape and Hermione, but he was getting a very large dose of Ron and Susan action.

"All right, let's go then," Hermione said, heading for the double doors. Snape followed.

Once they were outside, Snape handed Hermione the satchel and watched as she slipped it on. Then he transformed into the gryffin, crouching slightly so Hermione could mount him. A number of students greeted them, a few looking at Hermione enviously as she sat on the gorgeous animal. No one had the nerve to ask Snape for a ride. Good thing too. His reply would have been scathing. Only Hermione rode him—and vice versa.

Snape took off at a trot across the grounds, then leapt into the air, flying strongly upward into the darkening sky.

"Where are we going?" Hermione called over the wind.

Snape screeched, then banked, turning toward the Forbidden forest and flying over it.

"If we were going to the forest, why didn't we just go there? Don't tell me you were just showing off for the other students, Severus. Really. Your ego is huge," Hermione sniffed at him.

In response, Snape folded his wings and went into a dive that had Hermione screaming at the top of her lungs before he neatly pulled up and landed safely in the clearing. Hermione leapt off him furiously, pulled off the satchel and starting swinging it at the gryffin.

"You nearly scared me to death!" she yelled as the gryffin ducked and dodged the swinging bag, snapping its beak at the witch in irritation before transforming into Snape, catching the strap of the bag and pulling it out of her hands.

"The reason I took a round about route was so no one would see us entering the forest," he told the irate witch.

"And the dive?" she snapped at him.

Snape shrugged.

"You pissed me off," he said simply.

"Pissed you off? I'll piss you off, all right!" Hermione screeched at him as she pulled out her wand. Snape dropped the satchel and dove aside as she tried to Stupefy him and ran behind a tree, pulling out his own wand.

"Hermione! We haven't set the rules yet!" he called from the other side of the tree. He stuck his face out to see if she'd heard him and nearly was hit by a Reducto spell that blasted a large piece of bark out of the tree. He jerked his head back just in time.

"It's supposed to be structured!" Snape yelled at her. "We can't just haphazardly—"

Snape suddenly smelled Hermione and jumped away from the tree just as several ropes whipped around it. Hermione appeared from between the trees, her eyes narrowed and wand held ready to block.

"Fine," Snape growled. "No rules then, you little—hellcat! Levicorpus!"

Hermione blocked the spell, ran back through the trees and Disillusioned herself. Snape did likewise. Their shimmers would be visible but the trees and waning light would help hide them.

But Snape had the advantage because of his sense of smell. He cautiously entered the trees. Hermione saw his shimmer from her vantage point.

"Finite Incantatum!" Hermione hissed, making him appear again "Furnunculus!"

Snape barely managed to block the boil spell and fired back, not aiming at the witch's shimmer but the tree next to her.

"Arbor Animus!" he snarled and the tree's closest branches suddenly grabbed Hermione, dragging her upward. Her Disillusionment spell ended as she struggled for a moment.

"Sectumsempra!" she yelled, slicing through the thick main branch and dropping to the ground and landing in a crouch. .

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted, blasting Snape, who only managed to partially block the quickly thrown spell and staggered back through the trees.

"Accio Hermione Granger!" he hissed and Hermione was drawn forward, then became airborne, flying toward the wizard.

"Avis!" Hermione cried, sending a huge flock of birds at him. Snape wasn't expecting that and tried to protect his face as the birds flew at him, then he was knocked to the ground, Hermione crashing into and landing on top of him.

Desperately, he grabbed her wand hand and she grabbed his. They began to roll around on the ground, Hermione's determination increasing her adrenaline so she had an iron grip on his wand hand. Snape was surprised he couldn't easily overpower her. She wrapped her legs around his and locked them together. Presently they both stopped fighting, panting and still holding on to each other's wand hands.

"Now, this is interesting," Snape panted at her.

"Hardly," Hermione breathed back at him. They were laying on their sides, facing each other, Hermione's legs firmly wrapped around Snape's and crossed at the ankles. "We can't lie here like this forever."

"I could," Snape said with a smile. He tried to kiss her and Hermione yanked her head back for the second time of the night.

"No kissing! Now, let's just let go of each other and get up," she instructed. "No hexing until we can put a bit of distance between us. Agreed?"

"All right," Snape replied.

Hermione gingerly released his legs and slid back, still holding his wand hand. They both let go at the same time and jumped up, wands pointed at each other's chest.

They began to back up slowly, then both flicked their wands at the same time, light flashing from the tips and colliding. They took this opportunity to each dash for the trees again.

"Hiding's not going to help you, Severus!" Hermione called out.

"I notice you aren't standing in the middle of the clearing," Snape called back with a grin.

"I'm not afraid," Hermione called back. Snape's eyes widened as the witch walked into the middle of the clearing. He could hardly see her because night was falling. They'd have to make bonfires soon. She made a "come get some" motion with her hand.

Hermione watched as not one but three Snapes emerged from between the trees. They faced off for a second, then charged toward each other, robes flying as all wands were extended.

Suddenly a Chimera leapt out of the forest from the right, hurtling toward Hermione, all three heads snarling. Another two Chimeras flew out from the left, charging the Snapes.

"Oh fuck!" Hermione screamed as the Chimera landed on her—and passed right through the illusion she'd sent. She had screamed from the safety of the trees.

Suddenly, the white gryffin sprang from the woods and landed on the first Chimera, tearing at it with its talons and beak as it tried to protect Hermione, not realizing she wasn't under it. Snape had sent out three illusions of himself, not trusting Hermione.

"Severus! No!" Hermione screamed, running from between the trees. "Avada Kedavra!"

She hit one of the other Chimeras before it joined the fray. It had no prey and the gryffin was real. It fell, stone dead as the other Chimera leapt on the fighting gryffin.

"NOOO!" Hermione cried, casting the Reducto spell and blowing one of the creatures off of Severus. It slid across the ground, crashing into the trees before righting itself and charging toward Hermione. It was suddenly driven out of the way by a very bloody Snape, who leapt on it viciously, ripping and tearing as the other injured Chimera began healing. The snake and goat head had been torn off by Snape, but the lion head was only damaged, so the creature was healing.

Horrified, Hermione dispatched the other Chimera, but she couldn't get a bead on the one fighting with Severus while they were so close, rolling over and slashing and biting at each other. Blood was everywhere.

"Severus! Get away from it!" Hermione screamed at the gryffin. It seemed to hear her and tore away from the Chimera, almost completely crimson.

"Avada Kedavra!" she screamed, hate filling her heart. The green light bathed the beast and it dropped where it stood.

"Severus!" Hermione cried, running toward the gryffin, which staggered and fell to its side. Hermione fell on her knees beside it, her eyes full of tears as she looked at the torn animal form of her lover.

"Severus, transform back. You have to transform back. I can't help you like this. Please—oh gods. Severus. Please—"

The gryffin lay there, its sides rising and falling with effort, the black eyes half-closed and glazed with pain. Suddenly, Severus appeared, his face torn and robes soaked with blood.

Hermione gently rolled him to his back. She had to stabilize him enough to get him back to Hogwarts. She pointed her wand at the night sky and fired a red flare, the signal for help, then ran to find the satchel. After searching about, she found it, and ran back to Severus. She gently lifted his head and fed him two bottles of healing potion in the hopes it would help any internal injuries. Then she gave him pain potion to ease his agony.

"Oh gods, Severus," she breathed as she opened his robes, and then his shirt. Deep scratches and bites covered his body. "I wasn't even there. It wasn't me. You did all this for nothing."

Snape's eyes opened.

"Not—not—" he whispered.

Hermione's lip began to tremble at how weak he sounded as she began cleaning his wounds. The bleeding had stopped.

"Shhh, don't talk," she said, softly, dabbing at his wounds with a sterile cloth and more pain potion.

"Not for nothing—for you," he said softly. "I would die for you."

His eyes closed again as Hermione continued to work on him, wishing she had never mentioned dueling him. If she hadn't been so competitive and so dead set on proving that she was a better duelist than he was, this would have never happened.

"Hallo!" Hagrid's voice sounded through the forest.

"Over here!" Hermione cried. "We're over here!"

Hagrid's enormous bulk emerged from the trees, followed by Filch's slender frame. Both of them looked shocked at the dead Chimeras and Filch ran forward, looking down at Snape.

"Oh no," he breathed, his eyes filling. He bent down and gently picked Snape up in his arms, showing surprising strength as he cradled the injured wizard. Hagrid blinked at him.

"I think I'd better do tha', Argus. Yer up in years, yeh know."

Filch shook his head.

"I'll do it. I'll get the lad back to the castle," he said. "You get the information of what happened from Miss Granger for the report."

With that, Filch quickly carried Snape through the trees at a run, heading for Hogwarts castle as fast as his legs would carry him.

Thanks to Snape's salve, that was very fast indeed.

* * *

A/N: Difficult time writing today. Four very cabin-fevered grands to watch. Not the twins, but the older ones. Noise, noise, noise. Fighting. Whining. Ack! Lol. I managed to get them to watch Ducktales the movie and typed this chapter out. I hope its satisfactory since it was written under duress. Thanks for reading. ***

A/N/N: I had to change Manticores to Chimeras. Ack! Sorry.


	64. In the Infirmary

**Chapter 63 ~ In the Infirmary  
**  
Hermione sat worriedly in a small folding chair in the infirmary, her brown eyes glued to the black privacy curtain drawn around the area where Snape was being treated. She wasn't allowed in as Poppy examined the injured wizard. Sitting next to her was a slightly green Harry Potter, who had been receiving treatment for an extremely irritated stomach. He had a bottle of stomach calming potion in his pocket. He was to take a spoonful every time he felt nauseous. Despite how horribly he felt, Harry tried to comfort Hermione.

"He's going to be all right, Hermione," Harry said to her as she stared at the curtain. They could only hear murmuring. What Hermione would give for a pair of Extendable Ears right now.

"It's all my fault, Harry. If only I hadn't insisted on dueling him," she said tremulously.

"He was perfectly willing to duel you, Hermione. Don't blame yourself. How were you to know a pack of Chimeras would attack? You couldn't have known that. There hasn't been a Chimera attack on humans in ages."

Hermione's wet eyes turned toward Harry.

"Still he did it for me, Harry. We were both safely out of the way, but he thought one of the Chimeras had taken me down, and so he tried to save me. He's not a real animal, Harry. He doesn't have the same vicious nature."

"I don't know about that. He tore two heads off one of them, didn't he? Chimeras are tough, so that made him tougher."

"But if it wasn't for—"

"Miss Granger! I've just read the report," Minerva McGonagall declared, billowing up the medical wing in her Tartan robes, her beady eyes flashing at the witch. "You had no business in the Forbidden Forest! It is still off limits to students, even students that have been through a war! Explain yourself!"

Hermione blinked up at Minerva.

"We, we just wanted a quiet place to—to test our skills," she said in a small voice.

"Test your skills? You mean to duel! You said nothing about 'testing skills' in the report. We have a perfectly good Room of Requirement that could have safely provided a scenario for that kind of activity," Minerva said imperiously.

"Um—it was occupied," Harry said, holding his stomach reflexively.

"That doesn't matter, Mr. Potter. They could have found a place on the grounds of Hogwarts proper," the Headmistress snapped. "You both could have been killed! Chimeras are nothing to play with! You can expect a loss to Gryffindor of seventy-five points, Miss Granger and this incident will be recorded on your permanent record. Your parents will be notified and you're quite lucky you're not being expelled for your—your abject disregard for the rules!"

"I'm nineteen. Past the age of consent. My parents can't punish me," Hermione said rather sullenly. Minerva swelled up to nearly twice her size in indignation at her cheek.

"No, they can't punish you, but they can take you to task for being so irresponsible," Minerva replied. "Now no more of your cheek or you'll end up with several weeks of detention as well. The only reason I haven't assigned them is because of the number of NEWTS you are taking. Be grateful!"

Minerva billowed off and disappeared behind the privacy curtain to check on Snape.

"Wow. McGonagall is really angry at you," Harry breathed.

"Not as angry as I am at myself, Harry. Severus could have been killed trying to defend me," she said softly.

Harry studied her.

"It seems Snape really cares about you, Hermione."

Hermione didn't say anything about the wizard's declaration that he would die for her. Actually, she didn't say anything at all as she continued to stare at the curtain.

* * *

"He's going to have some scarring," Poppy told Minerva as she finished wrapping Snape's mid-section with bandages. "Luckily, the marks on his face, chest and legs will heal cleanly, but his back was badly torn. Still, it will only be a few battle scars. Nothing like the scarring he received from you know who."

"Voldemort, Poppy. His name was Voldemort. He's dead now. You can say it," Minerva replied, looking down at Snape. "Is he asleep?"

"No. I just put him out to make treating him easier. He's in pain. I've given him some potion for it, but he's going to feel terrible for the next couple of days."

"Imagine, fighting Chimeras. He's insane. He should have fled. Both of them should have fled," Minerva said, frowning down at Snape.

Poppy didn't know all the details so didn't say anything. Her job was to keep the students breathing, not to judge how they received their injuries. She pulled a sheet over him.

"I'm going to have to wake him to feed him more healing potion," she informed Minerva.

"Is he in any condition to talk?" the Headmistress asked.

"I don't know about talking, but he can listen," Poppy said, pointing her wand at Snape.

"Ennervate."

Snape groaned and opened his eyes. He saw a blurry form standing over him.

"Hermione?" he said softly.

"No, I am not Miss Granger," a curt voice replied. Snape's vision cleared and he saw Minerva scowling down at him.

He let out another groan, and it wasn't pain related.

"I'm going to get more healing potion," Poppy announced, pulling back the curtain and exiting. Minerva looked down at Snape severely.

"Severus, it was very irresponsible for you to take Miss Granger into the Forbidden Forest to duel," the Headmistress lectured him. "You could have both been killed."

Snape's black eyes turned on her.

"Where's Hermione? Is she all right?" he asked softly.

"She's fine, Severus. She wasn't at all injured. You attacked that Chimera for nothing. It had attacked an illusion of Miss Granger. She was never in any danger," Minerva informed him. An expression of relief washed across his face that the witch didn't miss.

Was there something more going on here than two young people stupidly risking their lives?

She continued.

"Since you are not technically a student, Severus, you could enter the Forbidden Forest, but Miss Granger is the responsibility of this school and you placed her in very grave danger. You are being held responsible because you flew her there. I have no choice but to issue your first formal warning about your conduct. If you receive two more, you will be removed from Hogwarts immediately. Is that understood?"

Snape nodded slightly, his black eyes meeting Minerva's. She sighed as she looked down at him.

"But, it was very brave of you to take on three Chimera to try and save a student of Hogwarts, despite how misguided the attempt was, Severus. You still have that selfless quality that made you so invaluable to us as an adult," she said to him softly.

Snape didn't say anything but he wasn't being selfless. He loved Hermione and would do anything to keep her attached to her mortal coil. His so-called "selfless" quality as an adult had been little more than being manipulated into a dangerous situation and having to deal with it. As far as Snape knew, serving Albus and the Order was nothing he would have chosen for himself.

Poppy returned with the healing potion and looked at Minerva furtively.

"Are you finished speaking with him, Minerva?" she asked the Headmistress. Snape was her patient, and she didn't want him upset.

"Yes, I am, Poppy. Take care of him," Minerva said, then she looked at Snape severely.

"I expect you to behave yourself for the rest of the term, young man," she said. Then her lower lips trembled as she thought of the man he used to be. "Goodbye for now."

She left quickly.

Hermione popped up immediately, approaching the departing witch. Minerva didn't slow down.

"How is he?" Hermione inquired as she passed.

"He's going to be fine, Miss Granger. He needs time to heal up. Mr. Potter, it is after curfew for you. Get back to Gryffindor tower. Miss Granger, I expect you there promptly at eleven," Minerva ordered as she opened the door and exited.

Harry stood up.

"I'd better go, Hermione, but it's going to be all right. Tell Snape I said to get better," Harry told her.

"Thanks, Harry. Bye," Hermione said.

Harry left the infirmary, and Hermione continued to sit there for several more minutes until Poppy stuck her head out of the privacy curtain.

"Miss Granger, he's asking for you," she said softly.

Hermione ran to the curtain and pushed her way through, walking up to the cot and looking down on Snape.

"I'll just give you a few minutes," Poppy said, withdrawing discreetly.

Hermione stared down at him. She could see the outline of the bandages beneath the sheet.

"Are you in pain?" she asked him softly.

"No. I'm experiencing nothing but pure pleasure from my wounds," he responded. "Absolute joy."

Hermione scowled at him now.

"Even bandaged up, you're still a sarcastic prat," she seethed at him, and Snape smiled.

"Remember what I told you about sarcasm. It's my defense against incredibly stupid questions," he said.

Hermione couldn't help smiling back at him.

"Severus, you had me so frightened," she said softly. "I thought—I thought you might not recover."

Snape continued to smile at her.

"I imagine you feel a beat cheated," he said.

"Cheated?"

"Yes, cheated. I was taken out by a Chimera rather than you. There is no winner."

"I don't care that there's no winner. I'm just glad you're all right."

"We can reschedule. Have the duel in the ROR," Snape suggested.

Hermione shook her head.

"No. No more duels, Severus. No more competition."

"Don't you want to know which one of us is the best?"

Hermione gave him a soft smile.

"No. I already know you're the best," she replied, taking his hand and kissing the palm of it.

Snape's eyes fluttered at the soft contact of Hermione's lips and suddenly he caught her shoulder with his other hand and pulled her down into a kiss, just as the privacy curtain drew back and Poppy entered, catching them.

"Miss Granger! Need I remind you that Severus is an injured wizard and in no condition for snogging?" the mediwitch exclaimed as Hermione popped up guiltily.

"But—but it was him—" she started to say, looking down at Snape, who suddenly looked extremely helpless and weak, one hand flopping back and his eyelids drooping.

"Oh, please," she muttered.

If Poppy didn't seem surprised that Snape and Hermione were kissing, it was because she wasn't. Hermione's frantic concern about the wizard told her all she needed to know. Actually, she approved. Snape had lived such a lonely, miserable life his first time around and Hermione was a witch that seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. She was very mature for her age and intelligent, if more than a bit bookish. Snape had always been an intelligent individual, so they seemed a good match. He deserved a bit of happiness.

"Miss Granger, do you expect me to believe that—that Severus made a—a pass at you in his condition? Really. Now, out with you. He needs his rest," the mediwitch said with mirth in her eyes.

She did believe Hermione, but still—Severus needed his rest.

Hermione scowled at Snape, who gave her a small smirk before resuming his "helpless" demeanor.

"All right. Good night, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, then with a scowl, "Good night, Severus."

"Good night," he said extremely weakly, and Hermione rolled her eyes before departing.

Poppy smiled down at Severus as she uncorked the healing potion.

"Now, Severus, this is a particularly nasty-tasting brew, but it will do wonders for you. The bitterness comes from Bicorn gall—now, up you go—"

Snape's choked coughing could be heard clear to the outside corridor.

"You didn't expect it to taste like pumpkin juice, did you?" Poppy chided the gagging wizard.

* * *

Harry made it to his bedroom, where an excited Ron was waiting for him.

"Harry, I've been waiting for you since forever," the smiling redhead said to Harry, who didn't look at him as he walked across the room to his bedside. "Where were you? I want to talk to you—about what happened tonight with Susan. It was fantastic!"

Harry groaned a little as he took out his bottle of stomach calmer and set it on the nightstand. Then he pulled his shirt over his head, getting ready for bed.

Ron walked over and picked up the bottle, reading the label.

"Stomach calmer? Have a bit of a sour stomach, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting down on the bed and removing his trainers and socks.

"Well, this will cheer you up, mate. Details about me and Susan tonight," Ron said, sitting down on his own bed, his face shining.

"Uh, Ron. I don't really feel like hearing about that. No offense," the boy who retched said imploringly.

"Oh come on, Harry. Every red-blooded wizard likes to hear about a good shag," Ron replied, not about to be thwarted in the telling of the tale.

"Ron, how do you think Susan would feel if she knew you were giving me intimate details about you two having sex?" Harry asked him, hoping guilt would make Ron back off.

"What? Witches do it, too. Don't think they don't sit around talking about how big or little a wizard's Willie is, Harry. Believe me. Besides, you won't say anything. Now listen. We went to the ROR, right? And when I saw Susan standing next to the bed I just went for it—"

Harry stripped down to his boxers, gave Ron a hang-dog look which he didn't notice, then took a big swig of the stomach calmer to help him handle the retelling of the dirty deed. He climbed into the bed.

"And she has such a big, juicy arse, Harry—"

Harry's belly bubbled as he couldn't shake the images of Ron and Susan going at it out of his mind. Ron's words were reinforcing what he'd witnessed. Gods damn it. He'd never spy on another living soul for as long as he lived.

"Then, she sat on my face, Harry!" Ron exclaimed enthusiastically.

* * *

A/N: lololol. Thanks for reading.


	65. Meals and Deals

**Chapter 64 ~ Meals and Deals**

The next morning, Hermione loaded up her books and went straight to the infirmary to see Severus. She hadn't slept well the night before, the Chimera attack playing and replaying in her head, as well as Snape's words:

I would die for you.

She entered the infirmary and heard Poppy saying, "Severus, you have to eat in order to heal up properly. Now, open your mouth!"

This was followed by silence, then an exasperated sigh from the mediwitch.

"Severus, you might not have your memories, but this stubbornness is a definite carry-over from your former life. I had difficulty feeding you gruel then as well."

"I don't need memories, Madam Pomfrey. It's instinct that won't let me open my mouth for that swill again. Self-preservation at its finest."

"Severus Snape, you open your mouth right now or I swear I'll use an Unforgivable on you!"

Hermione stopped in front of the privacy curtain.

"Madam Pomfrey," she called.

Poppy, who was seated next to Snape's cot waving a spoon full of gray gruel over the tight-lipped wizard, looked at the privacy curtain.

"Who is it?" she asked with irritation.

"Hermione Granger. I was hoping to have a short visit with Severus."

Poppy scowled at Snape.

"I shouldn't let you see anyone," she snapped at him. "You are still the most difficult patient I've ever had to deal with, no matter how old you are."

Snape's black eyes rested on her stonily. He wasn't going to eat that gruel without a fight. Poppy sighed.

"Come in, Miss Granger. Perhaps you can get him to eat," the mediwitch said.

Hermione drew back the curtain as Poppy rose and pushed the bowl of gruel and spoon into her hand.

"Sit down and see what you can do," Poppy said, frowning slightly.

Hermione set the bowl and spoon on the little stand next to Snape's cot, took off her knapsack, then picked it up again and sat down near the bed. Snape looked at the bowl in her hand then at her face. Hermione saw the terrible scratches on his face had healed nicely and were only thin, smooth reddish lines now. There wouldn't be any scarring. That was good.

"I won't eat that, Hermione. It's is worse than any potion I've ever tasted," Snape declared.

Hermione shook her head.

"That can't be true, Severus. There are some potions that are absolutely vile," she told him. "They taste awful."

"At least they have a taste. This doesn't. It just has a—a feel. And a nasty one at that. I want something with flavor. Like a few bangers and toast. Maybe some sliced tomatoes."

Poppy, who was still standing there, looked absolutely scandalized.

"You can't eat that kind of food in your condition! You'll get irritated bowels!" the mediwitch hissed.

"I'm willing to take the chance," Snape replied.

"Poppy's right, Severus. You're still on the mend. She knows what she's talking about. Now, be reasonable. Eat your gruel."

"No," Snape said petulantly.

Hermione looked at Poppy.

"Could—could I talk to him alone, Madam Pomfrey?" she asked the mediwitch.

"If you think you can get him to eat, then yes, I'll go. I have to restock my stores. I want that gruel gone by the time I come back, Severus—or else!"

Poppy exited the area with a bit of attitude, tossing the black curtain back angrily.

"This isn't an infirmary. It's a house of torture," Snape muttered, then looked at Hermione. "I didn't expect to see you this morning. Isn't this little visit cutting into your study time?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," Hermione said, dipping the spoon into the bowl.

"You see how I'm doing. I'm being starved to death," he griped, turning his head slightly as she brought the food closer.

"Severus, I want you to eat this gruel right now. How are you going to get better if you don't eat?"

"I will eat. Just not that," he said stubbornly.

Hermione sighed, then brightened. Maybe she could use his words against me.

"Last night, you told me you would die for me," she said softly. "Surely, you'll eat a bit of gruel to live for me, won't you?"

Snape frowned at her, then wrestled himself up on his elbows, Hermione's expression becoming worried.

"Don't, Severus! You're going to strain yourself," she chided him as he slowly sat up, wincing slightly.

"Eating that gruel is worse than death," he told Hermione, who nearly smirked. "But, I will eat it for a kiss."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Severus, how can you think about kissing at a time like this? You're supposed to be focused on getting well."

"A kiss will do wonders for my condition, I assure you, Hermione. That's the only way I'll eat that—that dreck."

"Only one kiss and you have to eat the whole bowl," Hermione bartered.

Snape made a face, but nodded.

"All right," Hermione said, setting the bowl on the stand, then pursing her lips and leaning forward.

Snape caught the back of her head and kissed her hungrily, his soft lips capturing hers and suckling on them sensually. Hermione felt his desire flow over her. Even injured, Severus was so—so seductive.

"Miss Granger!" a shrill voice exclaimed.

Hermione jerked back from Severus and looked to see Poppy standing inside the privacy curtain with her hands on her hips.

Oh, Merlin. Not again.

"I left my clipboard," the mediwitch said. "It's a good thing I came back. Honestly, he's not up to such—activity."

Snape tried to look as innocent and guileless as possible.

"He told me he'd eat the entire bowl of gruel for a kiss," Hermione said, her cheeks bright crimson. "I thought it was a fair exchange. We do want him to eat after all."

"Did you make that offer, Severus?" Poppy asked him.

Snape shrugged assent.

"Well, I would have kissed you if that's what it takes to make you eat," Poppy responded, her eyes twinkling as Snape make a small face and Hermione looked incredulous.

"No offense, but it wouldn't be the same, Madam Pomfrey," Snape said. "Believe me."

Poppy laughed.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't be," the mediwitch agreed. "But I witnessed the kiss, and so expect all of that gruel to be finished when I return."

She picked up a clipboard that rested on the other empty cot and started to leave. She looked back at Hermione.

"You have quite the bedside manner, Miss Granger," she said with a smirk. "You might want to consider entering the Healing field.

Then she exited, leaving them alone.

Hermione turned back to Snape, who was smirking at her. She purposely picked up the bowl.

"It seems Madam Pomfrey believes you could treat your patients lips-on," the wizard purred.

Hermione dug the spoon into the gruel and brought it up heaped with the gray, gritty porridge. She leveled it right in front of Snape's face. He went a little cross-eyed looking at it.

"Open," Hermione said imperiously.

Snape grimaced, then slowly opened his mouth. Hermione shoved the spoon into it making sure he got every bit of it. He swallowed thickly, disgust on his pale face.

"Can I have some water to force it down with?"

Hermione wore an expression of rather malicious glee at his discomfort. She was going to enjoy this.

"Yes, after you finish. Now, open."

* * *

"Hi Harry. Hi, Ginny," Susan called as she and Ron emerged from the dungeons the same time Harry and Ginny walked down the marble staircase.

"Hi Susan," Ginny said with a smile as all four of them met up.

"Ah, hi Susan," Harry said, not looking at the witch directly.

"Too bad we can't all eat breakfast together," Ron complained. "I think the houses should be allowed to mingle in the Great Hall. Maybe we should start a petition or something."

"Ron, you aren't going to change centuries of tradition just because you're going out with someone from another house. You're just going to be told to make other arrangements to eat together," Ginny told her brother as Susan smiled at him.

"It's a sweet thought, Ron," she said, and Ron smiled back at her.

"I'm glad someone appreciates my ideas," he said witheringly to Ginny, who just shook her head.

"Come on, Susan. I'll walk you to your table," Ron said, solicitously opening the door to the Great Hall for his girlfriend. Susan said goodbye and walked through. Ginny immediately turned to Harry.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" she asked him. "Last night you shot right by me in the common room, saying you had a stomach ache. This morning you're hardly talking to me or anyone. Are you still sick?"

"No. Not exactly sick, Ginny. Just—just squicked."

"Squicked? About what?"

"I saw something last night I shouldn't have seen," he said quietly.

Ginny's eyebrows rose. She knew he had planned to spy on Snape and Hermione. Did he see the Chimera attack? It was all around the school that Snape had fought off three Chimeras trying to save Hermione.

"What? Did you see the bloody attack on Snape?" Ginny asked him.

Harry blinked. "No, I didn't see it because I didn't find them. I waited in the Room of Requirement for them to show up, but they didn't show. Someone else did. And the room wouldn't let me out because I had instructed it to keep me hidden until whoever entered finished and left."

"Really?" Ginny said, totally intrigued. "So, who came in if it wasn't Snape and Hermione?"

"Can we go outside? I need some air," Harry said, turning slightly green.

"All right."

Harry and Ginny walked outside and stood on the stone landing. No one else was outside. Harry breathed in deeply, regaining a bit of healthy color.

Ginny watched him for a minute, then said, "All right—who and what did you see in the ROR?"

Harry looked at her miserably.

"Susan and Ron."

Ginny just blinked at him for a few seconds, then said one word.

"Ew!"

"That about covers it," Harry agreed.

Ginny continued to stare at him, shaking her head slightly.

"I told you not to spy on Hermione," she said. "It serves you right."

Harry looked at her incredulously.

"No one deserves that kind of punishment, Ginny, I'm telling you. It was—disturbing. Worse than disturbing. I got sick, really sick. I had to go to the infirmary and get stomach calmer. Then, when I came back to Gryffindor, Ron told me about it all, in detail. It was like a narration to the pictures in my head. I got sick three more times through the night. I even dreamed about it."

Harry stuck out his tongue as if he'd tasted something extremely nasty.

Ginny couldn't help laughing, which didn't improve Harry's mood at all.

"It still serves you right. But I have to ask, you didn't find them shagging at least a little hot?" Ginny pressed him.

Ginny had a bit of voyeur in her. She probably wouldn't want to see her brother shagging, but still—she wouldn't mind watching two people going at it.

"No! Maybe if all they did was shag, it could have been kind of hot, but your brother—Ginny—something's wrong with him," Harry said, shaking his head. "Terribly wrong."

"What? Why? What did he do?" Ginny asked Harry, curious now.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, greening again.

"Oh come on. You can't make a statement like that and not tell me why, Harry!"

"No. I want to keep my breakfast down, Ginny."

"Harry Potter, you tell me what happened and right now."

"No!"

Harry and Ginny walked back into the school, arguing.

There was no way Harry was going to go through Ron and Susan's shagging session a third time. Not even for Ginny.

* * *

Snape lay in the infirmary, his body throbbing as it healed. His back was particularly achy and he lay on his side. Poppy had already dosed him with pain potion, but couldn't give him any more at the moment. If she fed him too much, it would lose its potency and not work at all.

He'd eaten all the gruel, and actually did feel a bit better afterwards. Maybe he could get the recipe and tweak it so it tasted good. Snape wasn't only good at potions, but he was a good cook. He was great at seasoning things.

"How is our patient, Poppy?" a familiar male voice said.

"Which person are you referring to, Horace."

"Severus Snape of course," came the reply.

"He's healing up nicely."

"May I pay the boy a bit of a visit?"

"Yes, a short one."

The privacy curtain drew back and in walked Horace Slughorn. He had a hungry look in his eyes as he looked down on the convalescing wizard.

"Ah Severus, my boy. You are a wonder, a true wonder. Imagine, fighting off three Chimeras in your Animagus form. Extraordinary!" he exclaimed, walking over to the cot and taking a seat. "No one has ever performed such a feat. No doubt it will be recorded in the history books, my boy. You are quite special, quite special indeed."

"I don't feel special," Snape responded quietly.

"Ah, you're being modest. You are quite exemplary," Slughorn said, dismissing his comment. The wizard reached out as if to touch the slight marks on Snape's face, but he drew back, frowning at the round, bald wizard.

Slughorn looked around the room shiftily, then reached inside his robes, pulling out a napkin.

"Here," he said conspiratorially. "Something other than gruel. Hide it under your pillow."

Snape took the napkin and opened it slightly. In it were two slices of bread and two sausages. Manna from the kitchens.

"Thank you," he said, closing the napkin back and putting it under his pillow.

"Do you think you will be healed up by the end of the week?" Slughorn asked him anxiously. "I'm having a little party and I wish for you to attend as you agreed. Many important people will be there. Your study partner, Miss Granger has a standing invitation. Perhaps you can attend together."

Snape frowned slightly. He knew Hermione didn't do Slughorn's parties because she felt they were pompous and a waste of good study time.

"I don't know if she'll come," Snape said.

Slughorn simply smiled.

"Miss Granger is quite a busy young woman, Severus. However, it would be in her best interest to make connections while she is still considered a hero. The furor is going to die down eventually and she'll become old news. It's best to strike while the irons are still hot. She'd be wise to think about that. I am simply trying to help her make a place in the wizarding world."

"I think Hermione has her own plans about that, professor," Snape said coldly. "She believes hard work will help her find her niche."

"Tosh," Slughorn blustered, his mustache blowing upward as he harrumphed. "Getting a leg up requires more than hard work, my boy. At least you will reap a few of the benefits."

Snape sighed. He wished he had never agreed to attend one of the parties, but he had wanted the creatures for the review. They were so rare. Everyone thought they had been Boggarts, but they weren't. They were Gobbarts, a close relation to the Boggarts, except they had the ability to appear as what was most feared to multiple individuals. The Riddikulus spell worked on them, of course, but they couldn't be thwarted by several individuals at once, like their relatives. Boggarts would go into a tizzy when more than one person was facing them, turning into this and that until they were exhausted and fled.

Hermione hadn't even caught on to it in the ROR, she'd been so distracted.

"I only agreed to come to one of your parties," Snape said, wincing as a painful throb pulsed through his body.

"That you did, Severus. But I'm hoping you'll be so impressed by the caliber of the people present, that you'll decide to return. Only the cream of the crop will be in attendance, I assure you. People it will be good to know. And, you are a person of great interest. The story of your youthening has spread throughout the wizarding world. Minerva has had quite the time maintaining a news blackout. A lot of money has been offered for even one interview with you."

"I didn't know that," Snape said, frowning slightly.

He could always use more money. The headmistress hadn't told him anything about it.

"Minerva feels you should be protected from the media," Slughorn replied, also frowning because giving an interview would make him even more famous and as such, an even larger feather in the Slytherin's cap. "But, you'll be free to interview with anyone you choose after you leave Hogwarts. It would be an excellent way to get a good second start in life."

"All right, professor. Severus needs his rest," Poppy called from her office.

Slughorn frowned, then lifted his bulk out of the folding chair.

"I'm glad to see you are healing nicely, Severus, and look forward to seeing you Saturday night. It is rather formal so dress robes are in order. It begins at nine and lasts until the last person leaves. Those in attendance do not have to worry about curfew. Food and libations will be served."

Snape nodded slightly, glad Slughorn was leaving. He was starting to ache badly all over now and wanted to sleep through the pain. Perhaps Madam Pomfrey would give him a sleeping draught.

"Could you ask Madam Pomfrey to come here when you leave?" he asked Slughorn

."Of course, my boy, of course," Slughorn replied with a smile. "Until Saturday."

Snape watched as the wizard exited through the privacy curtain, then let out a low groan of pain.

He hoped he would be out of here by the weekend.

Snape closed his eyes and waited for Poppy to come.

* * *

A/N: Ah, Slughorn. Couldn't forget him. I had to creatively cover up my error in the reviewing chapters. The Boggarts appeared as a different fear to each person at the same time. Someone pointed out to me that Boggarts couldn't do that. But it was such a cool scenario, I couldn't bring myself to change it lolol. So, I created Gobbarts. :::shakes head::: I know, I know, that's cheating. I should have done a rewrite, but just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was watching for an opportunity to clean it up, and found one. It's AU anyway, so no worries. Thanks for reading.


	66. Laying it Down

**Chapter 65 ~ Laying it Down**

When Hermione returned to see Snape that evening after classes, she was unpleasantly surprised to see Harry, Ron and Ginny seated by Snape's bed. She entered, frowning slightly at the three intruders.

"Harry, Ron, Ginny—what are you doing here?" she asked them as Snape looked at her soberly. He was sitting up. On the small table were a number of books the Gryffindors had brought him to pass the time. Ron had slipped him a couple of chocolate frogs, too, just for strength.

"Visiting Severus. He's in pretty good shape considering he fought off three Chimeras," Harry said to her with a smile.

"Yeah. I thought he would have lost a few fingers or toes at least," Ron added.

"He fought two Chimeras. I killed one before it could attack him," Hermione said, walking up to Snape and scowling at him as if all the additional visitors were his fault.

"I thought you were resting up," she said to him evenly.

Snape cocked his head at her.

"I am," he said shortly.

Ginny studied them, then said, "Maybe we should go."

"What? Why? I want to talk to Severus a bit more," Harry protested as Ginny stood up.

"Come on, Harry. Hermione wants some time alone with him."

"She always has time alone with him, Ginny. They study together all the time," Harry said, unwilling to leave yet.

Ron popped up.

"Well, I'm ready to go. Susan's down in the kitchens. If I hurry, I might get a little bite or two. Either on something to eat—or Susan."

Everyone looked at him.

"What?" he asked with splayed hands.

"Nothing, Ron. Come on, let's go, Harry," Ginny said, catching hold of his arm. "Bye Severus. Bye, Hermione."

She pulled Harry out of the chair as Ron said his goodbyes and hurried out of the area, making a beeline for the kitchens.

"Bye, Severus. I'll stop by tomorrow," Harry said as Ginny led him out.

Snape blinked after them, then looked at Hermione.

"You really know how to clear a room," he said to her with a half-smirk.

"What? I didn't clear it. They left on their own," she replied with a frown as she took off her knapsack and sat down next to his bed.

"Mist have been all the warmth you exuded when you walked in here with such a happy greeting. What was it? Ah, yes—what are you all doing here?"

"I—I was just asking."

"Asking? Why? It was clear they were visiting with me, Hermione. You're so jealous it's unbelievable," Snape said to her. "You don't even want your own friends around me."

"That's not true. But I know Harry and Ron. They'll slip you things you don't need," she said, grabbing the magazines off the stand and leafing through them. She frowned at the Playwizard magazine hidden under a cover of "Potions Today."

"Typical Ron," she said, yanking it, roughly rolling it up and sticking it into her pocket.

"Hey!" Snape complained.

"You don't need to look at naked witches with magically enhanced breasts," Hermione seethed, leafing through the magazines again. She gasped as she found another magazine named "Magical Muffs" hidden under another unassuming cover.

"I can't believe Ronald," she hissed.

"He was just trying to keep me—how did he put it? Ah, stimulated. He said these magazines would be good for my circulation," Snape said innocently as Hermione pocketed that magazine too.

"You'll be stimulated enough once you get out of here," she said tightly.

Snape's eyes went a bit hot.

"Is that a promise?"

"No. It is incentive," she told him, flushing a little. "You don't need books when you have the real thing."

Snape smiled at her.

"I think I'm not the only one in love here," he said softly.

Hermione looked at him, shocked.

"Love? What are you talking about?" she asked him thickly.

"I think you're just as in love with me as I am with you, Hermione," the wizard said.

"I don't have time for love," Hermione shot back at him.

"That doesn't make any difference. Love doesn't work well with timetables. Either you're in love or you aren't," Snape told her. "And I believe you are and you won't admit it to me or yourself."

"That's—that's just silly. If I were in love, I'd have no problem saying I was. And I'm not. I'm just—just fond of you, that's all. I mean, we are intimate."

Snape just looked at her, and she colored.

"Next time we're together, I'm going to make you admit you love me, Hermione. You're going to say it and mean it," the wizard said. "Everything about you tells me that you have feelings for me that go beyond our sexual encounters. I can even smell the change in your pheromones when you walk in my presence. It's not a sexual scent either. It's something else, warm and compelling. Attractive."

"Oh, so you can smell love," Hermione said. "That's a first."

Snape shrugged.

"Well, I'm not in love. If I were in love, I'd be fawning all over you, making goo-goo eyes and being completely insufferable. Ew," Hermione said, making a face as she thought about Ron.

Snape chuckled.

"Not everyone in love acts the same, Hermione. You have things you want to accomplish. You don't have time for silly displays of affection. It doesn't mean you don't feel anything. You're just—conservative. But I can tell. I can feel it every time I kiss you or touch you. I can even see it in your eyes, although you try to hide it."

"Stop it. You don't see anything," she said softly, not looking at him, but at her hands.

"We're going to have to change our arrangement," Snape said. "I've been laying here thinking about it and it's no longer suitable. I want a claim on you, one that people know about so no one else will try to go out with you."

Hermione snorted.

"You don't have to worry about that, Severus. You're the only one who finds me remotely attractive," Hermione said softly.

"Ron Weasley found you attractive as well," Snape countered.

"But we'd been friends forever, Severus. And he didn't find me as attractive as he finds Susan," she added. "He's absolutely wild about her. Anyone can see that."

"That's only because she's more in line with what he wants, Hermione. She's attractive on other levels to him. But to me, you're absolutely beautiful and I'm sure there are other wizards who see it as well."

"Well, point them out to me, then," Hermione said, trying to lighten the situation.

"That's what I'm trying to avoid," Snape said soberly. "I want us to be exclusive."

"We are exclusive," Hermione told him. "I'm not seeing anyone other than you, Severus."

"I want to know you're mine," he breathed. "That you are my witch. Just mine. I want to have your love and your loyalty, like you have mine, Hermione. I want you and not just for the occasional tumble. I won't interfere with your studies, but—but I need this. I need you. I want to know when I leave Hogwarts, I won't be leaving you. That our relationship will continue. I don't care how many miles come between us, Hermione. You'll always be as close to me as my own heartbeat, whether you accept me or not. I'm committed."

"Severus, we're both so young, how can you say you're committed?"

Snape looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"How can you doubt it, Hermione? You knew me as a man, what motivated me to be a spy—you knew how dedicated I was to—to Lily even after she clearly made her choice and even—lost her life. It was clear I never stopped loving her, Hermione. Now, there is no Lily. There's only you in my heart. You're the one I love and will continue to love. Don't doubt me when you know even better than I do how devoted I can be—"

Hermione's eyes began to fill as she looked at Snape, her lower lip trembling. Did he really love her as much as he had loved Lily? Could he possibly? The idea of it was almost too much, almost too overwhelming. Suddenly, she stood up, unable to deal with his declaration.

"I—I have to go, Severus," she said softly.

"You can't run away from this, Hermione," he said just as softly. "Thinking about it won't help either. This has nothing to do with logic and everything to do with what's in the heart. I never told Lily how I felt about her. I'm not making that mistake with you, especially when I know you hold the same feelings for me. You're not a callous witch, Hermione. When we make love, I know you feel me beyond the physical pleasure. I certainly feel you. We need to be more."

Hermione looked at him, tears suddenly falling from her eyes. She turned and practically bolted out of the infirmary, a startled Poppy watching her race by her office.

"Miss Granger? Miss Granger, what's wrong?" she called after Hermione, but she didn't stop. She exited the infirmary.

Poppy quickly walked to Snape's area, pulling back the curtain.

"What's wrong with Miss Granger, Severus?" she asked the wizard, who sighed.

"I'm afraid she has a case of cold feet, Madam Pomfrey," he replied quietly.

"You'd never know it by the way she flew out of here," the mediwitch replied. Hermione had really burned up the tiles leaving the infirmary. Poppy left Snape alone with his thoughts thinking how difficult things were for the young.

* * *

Hermione hurried to Gryffindor tower, too upset to go to Snape's quarters. Besides, it wouldn't be the same without him there. Well, without him out of the infirmary. Snape didn't always stay with her when she studied but she knew he was out and about. Present, even in absentia.

"Why is he pressuring me? He promised not to pressure me," Hermione whined as she lay on her stomach in her bed. "Okay, he loves me. I understand that. Why does he insist I love him back? He's just—just unnecessarily complicating things. We're already exclusive. I'm not seeing anyone else. I don't have plans to see anyone else. I just want to get through my NEWTs. Merlin, he's so—so pushy."

She thought about his words.

"And mushy," she added with a frown. She couldn't ever imagine the adult Snape spewing such—such sweet words.

The problem was, he meant them. He wasn't trying to cull her favor with romantic diatribe. He was being honest. She could feel it deep inside when he spoke to her so earnestly. Hermione hadn't really thought about after graduation that much, but had planned to continue to see him, even visit that spooky old mansion he was going to move into. She really planned to accompany him there, along with Ron, Harry and probably Ginny and help clear it of any dark spirits.

If they were going to continue to see each other as lovers, why was it necessary to become an—an item? They were already and item, even if they weren't calling themselves boyfriend and girlfriend.

He could smell her love? That had to be the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard of, although he certainly had the nose for it.

But inside, Hermione felt uneasy, well aware that there were changes in the body's scent depending on emotion. Maybe Severus did smell something different when she was near him. Hermione sighed, then rolled out of her bed and walked over to her Floo, contacting the kitchens. She hadn't eaten yet. She ordered a small salad and some tea. Her stomach felt as if it were in knots. She wouldn't be able to keep anything heavy down right now.

She sat on the side of the bed, trying to come to terms with what Snape had told her. He said he was going to make her admit she loved him. How did he intend to do that? He couldn't force her to say something she didn't want to say.

Hermione was glossing over the real issue here. The issue of if she really did love Severus Snape. Once again she was trying to use logic when it just wasn't applicable. She didn't want to dwell on what was so obvious to the wizard. When she entered this arrangement, it was to avoid the necessity of commitment and deep emotion. They were supposed to be associates with privileges.

Like that would have worked in any world

Hermione Granger was faced with a dilemma that could be easily solved if she just stopped trying to open up her mind and instead, opened up her heart.

But that was just too simple.

* * *

A/N: Ah, moving right along. Face it, Hermione. You're in his sights, girl. Now you know what he wants. Are you ready to give it? Thanks for reading. ***


	67. Harry Lays it Down

**Chapter 66 ~ Harry Lays it Down**

Hermione decided to throw herself into her work, and spent the next four days studying and working relentlessly, not allowing herself to think of anything else. She didn't go back to the infirmary for the rest of the week, forcing Snape out of her mind.

She returned to Snape's quarters as usual, and got a lot accomplished during the week. On Thursday evening, however, someone knocked on the Potions office door. Hermione put down her quill with a look of exasperation on her face and entered the Potions office.

"Severus isn't here. He's in the infirmary," she called.

"I know he's in the infirmary," Harry replied from the other side of the door. "I'm here to see you, Hermione."

"I'm working, Harry."

"Hermione, you open this gods damned door right now! I want to talk to you!" Harry demanded, his glasses glinting in the torchlight as he frowned at the door.

Hermione opened the door, looking out at a scowling Harry.

"You didn't have to curse," she said to him, opening the door wider. Harry stalked in and spun on her.

"You're really a piece of work, Hermione, do you know that?" he hissed at her furiously.

Hermione closed the door, taken aback by how angry Harry was.

"What are you talking about?"

"Severus, that's what I'm talking about. He nearly got killed for you and you don't even go to see him. What kind of friend are you? Is it just really about his books for you? Don't you even care he's hurt?"

Hermione walked back through the door to Snape's private quarters, followed by Harry who frowned at all the parchments and books spread about.

"Of course I care, Harry, but he's going to be fine and I still have to work hard," she said, sitting down at the desk.

Harry blinked at her.

"Whenever I was hurt, you practically lived in the infirmary," he told her as she picked up a quill.

"This is different," Hermione said, looking at a book.

Harry's face grew darker and darker as Hermione appeared to ignore him, jotting down some notes. Suddenly, he snatched the quill out of her hand, droplets of ink falling on her parchments.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hermione shouted at him. "My work is ruined! I'm going to have to rewrite all of this!"

"I don't care, Hermione! You're a selfish bitch sometimes, you know that?"

Hermione stared at him, then suddenly jumped up, whipped out her wand, and pointed it between Harry's eyes.

"Don't you call me a bitch, Harry! I didn't do anything to you! I haven't done anything to anyone. All I want to do is get through all this work! Why can't anyone understand that! Why is everyone pressuring me?"

Harry stared at the wand, his mouth in a tight line.

"You want to hex me, Hermione? Go ahead. It wouldn't surprise me if you did do it, the way you're acting. You don't care who you hurt, do you? Go ahead. Blast me!" he snarled at her, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Hermione frowned at him, then her eyes became wet and she lowered the wand.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I—I just—I don't know what's going on with me," she said tremulously.

"I do. You care about the NEWTs more than anyone. Even Severus. I know that you and him are involved, Hermione. Is this how you treat someone who loves you?"

Hermione's eyes rounded.

"What?" she cried.

"Snape told me. Everything."

"He did what?"

Harry gave her a withering look.

"Snape's a person like anyone else, Hermione. He needed to talk to someone, so he talked to me, because he knows I care about you like a sister. He didn't tell anyone else, but I know what's going on between the two of you, and how he feels about you."

"Oh, no," Hermione said, sinking back into her chair and letting her face drop into her hand. "Why would he tell you?"

"Maybe because he loved my mother once. And you know what he said, Hermione? He said he never felt about my mother the way he feels about you. That it's something deep inside him, something real, not wishful. If he loved my mother based on a wish, how much more does he love you? Why are you treating him like this? Ignoring him? You obviously made the decision to get involved with him!"

Hermione looked up at him.

"It's complicated, Harry," she said softly.

"Of course it is! How could you ever think it wouldn't be complicated, Hermione? You're shagging him!"

Hermione turned red.

"But, Harry, we aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. We're just lovers, shag buddies. That's all it was ever supposed to be," Hermione told him.

Harry stared at her in silence for a full minute.

"I can't believe you're so stupid, Hermione. We all know what Snape is like based on his past. How devoted he was to my mum. It's his nature to be that way, and you knew that. Deep down inside, Hermione, you had to know he would latch on to you. Don't act like you didn't know. You've taken up with someone even needier that Ron in a way. He feels things a lot deeper. He'd do anything for you, and you just turned away from him!"

"I didn't. He's going to be out soon. I'll see him then," Hermione said.

"Tomorrow. He's going to be released tomorrow evening," Harry said. "And you need to be honest with him, Hermione. Do you love him? If you don't, you need to break this thing off. Snape's been hurt a lot in his life and he has a chance for a new start. Don't be my mum, Hermione. If you don't want him, then tell him. He needs more than someone who'll shag him every now and then."

Hermione frowned at Harry.

"This isn't any of your business, Harry," she told him.

"Snape's my friend, Hermione and so are you, so it is my business. He hasn't been one as long as you have, but he was nearly killed for me and unlike you, I feel I owe him some loyalty. So, it is my business. Now, do you love him? Or are you just using him?"

"I'm not using him," Hermione said.

Harry looked around Snape's quarters and at all the books she had spread out.

"Looks like you are to me. You're having a right party with his books while he's healing up. Just going through them like you own them while he's in the infirmary. You make me sick, Hermione."

I'm not using him!" Hermione said, louder.

"I don't believe you. He loves you, Hermione and you're just taking ad—"

"I LOVE HIM TOO, DAMN IT!" Hermione shrieked at Harry, banging her fists on the table and tears falling from her eyes. "I tried to keep it simple, to just let it be a physical relationship, but—but it isn't. It isn't, Harry."

"So, tell him, you idiot. Just don't bail on him. You're a Gryffindor—where's your courage?" Harry demanded, but his voice wasn't as harsh now. Hermione was clearly running scared.

"It isn't that easy, Harry. I've kept him at arm's length all this time. What am I supposed to do, just—just change gears?"

"Yes," Harry said softly. "That's exactly what you should do, Hermione. Snape's a good wizard and you two are good together. He doesn't even mind that you work all the time. He just wants something more. He wants to be with you, be your boyfriend. What's so hard about that, Hermione? Especially if you love him back. Just—just tell him you do and stop running away from it. There's other things that matter more than marks, and he's not trying to stop you from getting them. He just wants—you. He wants to know you'll be here for him."

Hermione sat there, wiping at her eyes with her robes sleeve.

"I'm—I'm scared of commitment, Harry. I don't do it well. You saw what happened with Ron," she sniffed.

"Severus isn't Ron. He doesn't want a bunch of kids and a wife to cook and clean for him. He has ambitions too, and wants to do great things, just like you do. Besides, he's already committed to you, Hermione. I think you're committed to him too. Just admit it and let yourself be happy. You're never going to find happiness this way. There's always going to be something more you want to achieve academically, but you can find happiness and love now. That will be an accomplishment that means something, Hermione. Something solid that—that'll ground you. Snape understands you. He'd never hold you back, ever."

Hermione blinked up at him.

"Why do you care so much, Harry?" she asked him softly.

Harry drew in a deep breath.

"Because, I love you too, Hermione," he said quietly. "And I really want to see you happy. You would have never gotten involved with Snape if you didn't feel something for him. You say you believed it was supposed to be casual sex for convenience but we both know better than that. There's nothing casual about you. Everything you do, you throw yourself into five hundred percent. This is no different, Hermione. If you love him—tell him. Everything will be so much better."

"But I'm afraid, Harry—"

"Suck it up, Hermione! Stop being a pussy—er—"

Hermione scowled at him.

"You know what I mean," Harry said a bit sheepishly. That statement worked a lot better on wizards than witches, due to their opposing anatomy.

Hermione let out a choked laugh. She couldn't help it. She drew in a deep, steadying breath and straightened in the chair.

"I am a Gryffindor, aren't I?" she asked him.

Harry nodded.

"And Snape's a Slytherin. You're not going to let him make you run, are you, Hermione? You're just as strong as he is. You just have to be just as honest. That's all."

Hermione blinked at Harry.

"You're right, Harry," she said, closing up all the books on the desk and putting the parchments together neatly. Then she stood up.

"I've got to face my fears," she stated. "I've done it before, and under fire."

"That's right," Harry said, egging her on.

"I'm going to march right up there and tell Severus how I really feel," Hermione said.

"Good for you."

Then Hermione sank back down in the chair.

"Tomorrow," she said softly, then "Hey!" as Harry yanked her out of the chair.

* * *

Poppy was standing in the infirmary when the door suddenly opened and Hermione stumbled in as if thrown. The mediwitch watched with raised eyebrows as Hermione turned and tried to force the door back open. It seemed as if it was stuck.

But it wasn't. Harry was holding the other side.

"Have you come to see Severus, Miss Granger? You've been gone for quite a while," the mediwitch called to her.

Snape sat up in the cot when he heard this. Hermione was here?

Hermione spun around guiltily.

"Ah, yes. Yes, I have," she said softly, mentally cursing Harry. She would have hexed her way out but he'd taken her wand.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," Poppy said with a smile. "Go right in."

Snape ran his fingers through his hair quickly. He still had bandages wrapped around his middle but not heavy ones. They'd be removed permanently tomorrow morning. He sat up straight and waited for Hermione to enter. Presently the curtain was pulled back and she entered rather timidly. His black eyes rested on her soberly.

"Taking a break from your studies?" he asked her softly.

Hermione nodded silently.

"I imagine you've got a lot accomplished without me in the way," he stated.

"I got a lot accomplished, but it wasn't because of that," she replied.

Snape just looked at her for a moment or two.

"Why did you come see me, Hermione? You haven't been here almost the whole week."

Hermione swallowed.

"I need to tell you something."

"It couldn't have waited until tomorrow? I get out tomorrow."

"I was going to wait until tomorrow, but—"

Hermione wasn't about to tell him Harry dragged her up here from the dungeons.

"I decided it would be better to tell you tonight."

Snape studied her stonily, waiting for her to say what she had to say. Finally, he became exasperated as she stared back at him like a Bugbear caught in the torchlight.

"Well?" he asked her pointedly. "What is it?"

Hermione reddened.

"What is it?" Snape demanded, a cold feeling in his belly. Was she going to break it off with him? Had he pushed her too much? He steeled himself for her reply. He wouldn't beg if she did, not like he did with Lily when she turned away from him. It didn't make any difference then and probably wouldn't now. He'd just—accept it. He was used to Gryffindor witches tossing him away like garbage. He frowned at Hermione reflexively, expecting the worse as she started to speak.

"Severus— I love you."

* * *

A/N: And THERE IT IS! Yay!!! Lol. Good old Harry and his righteous wrath and indignation. This was a fun chapter to write and a bit emotional too. Thanks for reading.


	68. Strange Responses

**Chapter 67 ~ Strange Responses  
**

Having finally said the words, Hermione waited for Snape to respond with joyful jubilation at her admission. But the young wizard simply looked at her and didn't say a word.

"I said I love you," she repeated, frowning at him.

"I heard you," Snape replied.

Hermione blinked at him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"Yes, I do. Go back to your studies."

"WHAT?"

"I said go back to your studies, Hermione. Is that so difficult to understand?"

Hermione couldn't believe this. She finally tells Severus how she feels about him and his response is for her to go back to her studies? Why the big prat!

"I take it back!" she snarled at him.

He quirked his lips.

"You can't. It's already been said. It's not like you handed me something you can retrieve," Snape said calmly.

"I can't believe you! After all that—that emoting you did earlier this week about my not admitting I loved you, you act like this? What kind of game are you playing, Severus? I pour out my heart to you—"

"If that's pouring out your heart, Hermione, then you have a very tiny vessel," Snape responded evenly.

"All right, maybe I didn't wrap it in all the mushiness you did, but it was straight to the point. Those three words said all that needed to be said," she told him angrily.

"Do you really think so? I haven't seen you all week and then you pop in here, tell me you love me as if it's the hardest thing in the world to say and expect me to break into song. Well, I'm not that easy." Snape said, pointing his nose in the air a bit.

Hermione turned mottled, she was so pissed off. The nerve. If she had her wand—

"I shouldn't have told you anything. I should have known you'd act like a git about it. Honestly. I think I will go back to my studies," she hissed. "I shouldn't have even come here!"

With that, Hermione turned and stormed out of the area, leaving Snape sitting on the cot.

The moment she left, the wizard smiled broadly.

She loved him.

"Yesssss!" he said softly, thrusting both arms into the air in victory.

The reason he hadn't reacted as Hermione expected was two-fold. Firstly, he was mad she hadn't come to see him all week and hid out rather than face him again when he called her on her feelings. Secondly, the infirmary wasn't the proper place to admit her love or for him to express his happiness. It was a "safe" setting. Telling him she loved him there provided her some protection from what could have been a deeply affecting moment. They were alone, but not truly alone.

Snape lay back down on the cot, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling.

They'd be alone tomorrow evening when he was released. Then he'd show her just how much her admission meant to him.

In spades.

* * *

Harry was sitting outside the infirmary, waiting for Hermione. He stood up as she stormed out and stomped past him furiously. He blinked after her then ran to catch up.

"So, how did it go? Did you tell him?" Harry asked as Hermione marched down the corridor.

"Yes, I told him, the big arsehole," she hissed.

Arsehole? That wasn't a term Harry had been expecting.

"So how did it go? What did he say?" Harry pressed as they came to the end of the corridor and waited for a shifting stairwell to slide over.

"He told me to go back to my studies," Hermione replied. "He said he wasn't about to break into song about it. Can you imagine that? Oh, I wish I could take it back. I knew I shouldn't have told him, but you—you just had to press the issue, didn't you, Harry? Tell him you love him, Hermione."

Hermione used a nasally, nagging voice to imitate Harry's goading. Harry looked perplexed as they stepped on the stairs.

"I don't understand. He was so—so earnest about it all," Harry said.

Hermione snorted.

"He always seems earnest. That's a good quality when you're a conniving, insensitive Slytherin," she spat. "He's really good at leading Gryffindors on."

"What, you don't believe he loves you?" Harry asked her as they changed stairs again, heading down to the entrance hall.

Hermione sighed.

"Yes, I believe him when I'm right there with him, Harry. I do. But—but this? I don't know what to make of this. I go to him and tell him I return his feelings and he practically kicks me out. And they say witches are fickle," she muttered.

"Maybe he's mad at you for not visiting him all week, Hermione. You've been gone for days then all of the sudden you just pop up and tell him you love him—"

Hermione looked at Harry incredulously. She wouldn't have "popped up" at all if he hadn't dragged her to the infirmary in the first place.

"Give me my wand back," she demanded, glaring at him. It wasn't hard to see what she was thinking. Her expression was murderous.

"Oh no," Harry replied. "I need running room before I do that. You'll hex me off the stairs if I gave it back now."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Definitely."

"I could always push you," Hermione said with narrowed eyes.

Harry grabbed hold of the banister.

They rode the rest of the way down to the entrance hall in silence and Harry walked her back to Snape's office. They just missed Ron and Susan walking out of the Hufflepuff side of the dungeons, Ron stuffed to the gills and holding Susan's hand. It was just as well. Seeing smarmy Ron all goo-goo eyed over his girlfriend wasn't something Hermione needed to see right now, especially after Snape gave her the boot.

Harry and Hermione passed a couple of Slytherins on the way, but they didn't greet each other. When they reached Snape's office, Hermione held out her hand pointedly.

"My wand," she said stonily.

Harry blinked at her, slowly drew her wand out of his pocket, then quickly threw it down the corridor.

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled at him as he bolted up the hall, zig-zagging. Hermione ran to retrieve her wand but Harry had burned tile and was too far away to hex. Besides, there were more students in the corridor.

"Blast," Hermione hissed, unwarding the door and letting herself into Snape's office.

She had so wanted to set Harry's arse aflame.

Hermione returned to her work, trying not to think about Severus' cool response to her admittance. But, occasionally she'd exclaim, "ooh, that git!" and "Oh, what an arse!" under her breath.

Well, when he got out tomorrow, he'd get an even colder reception than she had. She'd pretend like she didn't even care he was back. That would show him.

Oh, the best laid plans—

* * *

Poppy had a time with Snape the next morning after removing his bandages. He had several scars on his back as a permanent reminder of his determination to save the witch he loved. He studied the scars using a magical mirror. They weren't too terrible. He could live with them. He never saw how badly he was scarred as an adult. These marks were nothing.

Poppy told Severus he would have to stay several more hours just for observation.

"It's obvious I'm fine," Snape said impatiently.

"I'll be the one to decide that, Severus, not you. Now, back to bed with you."

"Can't I at least have my robes?"

"Your robes? Why? So you can sneak out of here the moment my back is turned? No, you may not have them. I haven't even sent for them yet."

"My wand, then."

"That's worse than your robes! You will get what you need when I release you and not before then. Stop being so troublesome."

So, Snape sulked most of the day. He couldn't wait to get out of there and see Hermione.

He had quite a return planned.

* * *

"I've never seen a patient dress so quickly in all my time at Hogwarts," Poppy said as Snape emerged from behind the privacy curtain. "Well, then again, you always were quick to leave here, Severus."

"My wand?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Here you go," the mediwitch responded, pulling it out of her apron pocket. Snape quickly put it in his own.

"You're free to go," Poppy said to the wizard.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, for everything," he told her soberly.

"You're very welcome, Severus," she replied, smiling as he strode away.

"No arduous activity for at least a week!" she called after him.

Snape exited without a response.

He wasn't about to take that advice.

* * *

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* * *

Snape quickly rode the stairwell down to the entrance hall and was about to enter the dungeons when he heard his name called.

Blast it all.

He turned to see a smiling Harry and Ginny walking towards him. They were just leaving supper.

"Hi. You're out," Harry said, stating the obvious. Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes. Ginny gave him a little wave and smile.

"Yes I am. And I'm in a hurry," Snape said shortly.

"Yeah, I imagine you are. I just want to warn you Hermione is in a right mood. She's mad that you kicked her out last night," Harry said with a frown.

"She'll be fine," Snape said. "I have to go, Harry. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye Ginny."

And he billowed down the dungeon stairwell.

"Seems he's not worried about Hermione being mad," Harry said, taking Ginny's hand and starting up the marble staircase.

Ginny gave a knowing smile.

"No, he's not," she agreed.

* * *

Hermione tried not to look at the clock as she worked. Severus would be returning soon and it didn't matter in the least. She'd say hello and continue to work as if everything were normal and he'd never been away.

She started slightly as she heard the wall slide open, but didn't look over at it. She continued to write. Let him be the first to speak.

All she heard was the wall slide back, then silence. She could feel his presence, but he didn't say anything. Hermione tried to focus, to keep writing, but the quiet was getting to her. Finally, she looked over at Snape, who was standing in front of the wall looking back at her.

"Welcome back," she said coldly, then turned back to her books. All right, so she did speak first. So what? It had been nice and icy.

"Say it now," Snape said quietly.

Hermione looked at him.

"Say what?" she asked, her heart starting to flutter at the covetous way he was looking at her. She knew what he wanted to hear.

"Tell me that you love me," he breathed, tensed and trembling slightly.

"No. I did it once and you just—just kicked me out," she replied, but her heart was pounding.

Snape stared at her for a moment, then walked over and yanked her out of the chair, crushing his lips to hers and snogging her soundly. His kiss was hot, hungry and desperate as he held her close, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the rush of her skin, the world seeming to spin as he let his emotion and elation wash over the both of them.

They continued to kiss, their heads turning this way and that, tongues entwining, mouths connecting over and over, Hermione feeling Snape's desire snaking through her belly as he pressed against her in an unmistakable manner.

"Oh, Severus—what—" Hermione gasped at him when he let her up for air.

"Don't ask me," he said softly. "Just go with this—take me higher, Hermione. I've missed you and I want you. I want you to say the words again. Please. The infirmary wasn't the place to tell me. There was nothing I could do about it then. But now—now Hermione, I can show you how I feel. Say it."

Hermione looked into his dark eyes. They were wet and pleading.

"I love you, Severus Snape," she said softly.

"Yes," he breathed, covering her mouth with his own again and backing her away from the desk gently until they reached the wall near his bedroom door. He pressed her against it, the scent of leather mingling with her scent.

"I want you," he breathed, pulling her hair aside and kissing the side of her throat. Hermione's eyes went half-lidded as he suckled it gently. Still, she tried to protest—a little.

"But Severus I have to—"

"You have to get naked," he finished. "We both do. You have to let me inside you. That's all you have to do tonight, Hermione. You're all I want. Don't deny me. Let me feel your love."

"Oh, Severus," she breathed as he slowly began to unbutton her robes.

* * *

A/N: Mmmm. Go Snape! Lol.


	69. An Unplugging of the Hole

**Chapter 68 ~ Unplugging the Hole**

Snape paused, his fingers stopping, a button and the parted fabric between his fingers as he looked at Hermione, how heated her eyes were. He smiled at her.

"You couldn't really believe I was unaffected, Hermione," he said to her, "that your words had no affect on me."

"I—I didn't know what to believe, Severus," she replied softly, her body reacting to his closeness. Snape began unbuttoning her robes.

"I could have crowed," he said. "I could have changed into a Gryffin and took a few turns around the infirmary when you told me you loved me, but—such a display would have been undignified. Besides, I wanted to see you sweat a little."

"Sweat? What do you mean, sweat?" she asked, catching both his hands and scowling at him.

"You did abandon me for almost an entire week," he said softly.

"Four days. I needed to work," she said.

"You needed to hide," Snape corrected. "You ran away. Some Gryffindor. Godric would have tossed in his grave at your cowardice."

"Don't call me a coward," Hermione hissed at him furiously.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her words.

"I said you showed cowardice, not that you were a coward. There's a difference," he told her. Suddenly, Hermione pushed away from him, sliding past him back into the center of his quarters, Snape turning after her with a billow.

"I wasn't showing cowardice. I just—just wasn't ready," she declared, clasping her hands together as she looked at her lover.

"And what made you ready?" Snape asked, slowly walking toward her. "What happened to make you realize that you loved me?"

"Nothing. Nothing really. I already knew it, even before you said what you did in the infirmary. I just—just didn't want it to get in the way. To complicate things. You know what I'm trying to accomplish. Love—love takes up time, Severus. It might be beautiful, but for now, it's a liability. I don't want to be in love," Hermione said tremulously, waiting for a bad reaction to this truth.

Snape didn't have a bad reaction. In fact, he laughed, which made Hermione quite angry.

"Don't laugh at me!" she hissed, tempted to pull out her wand on him.

"I'm laughing because you can control almost everything around you, Hermione, except your own heart. You know it functions independently of conscious thought. I laughed because it must be odd and unfamiliar to have to give up and give in. You must think being in love with me is the most terrible thing in the world right now. And that appeals to me on a number of levels."

"You are so—so perverse! How can you be enjoying my—my discomfort?" Hermione cried. "I can't believe you! I'm not—not staying here! I'm going!"

Hermione stalked over to the desk and began stuffing parchments and books into her knapsack haphazardly, a sure sign she was upset. Snape watched her for a moment then walked over to her, catching hold of the knapsack.

"It appeals to me because I know you honestly feel love for me, Hermione. It's not something you've considered and come to an informed decision about. You haven't 'decided' to love me. You don't even want to love me—but you do. Every little part of you is for me. How could I not take pleasure in that knowledge, in knowing that you feel for me exactly what I feel for you? Don't leave me because I'm being honest with you, Hermione. You must get used to it. I'm always going to be this way. Please—stay."

Hermione looked down at his pale hands clasping her knapsack.

"You just—annoy me so much," she said softly.

Snape gently took the knapsack out of her hands and set it back on the desk. He moved a bit closer.

"Hermione, everyone annoys you to some extent, because they're always encroaching on your space either physically or emotionally. You know who—your friends, your imagined competition—"

"Imagined? Severus—you know full well there are students at this school who could—"

Snape pressed his finger to her lips gently, quieting her.

"Who couldn't hold a torch to you, Hermione," he finished for her. "All of this work to the exclusion of all else is—unnecessary. It's a way to hide, to avoid entanglements, to push people away. At first I thought, I thought you felt inadequate, that somehow you felt you had to be better than everyone else because you are Muggle-born and feel the need to prove yourself."

Hermione blinked at him, her eyes becoming wet.

"It's not that," he said softly. "I know what it is now, Hermione. I know what drives you, what's kept you keeping everyone at arm's length—"

"What?" she whispered as he drew her into his arms.

"You told me I wasn't the only one," he said, "that I wasn't the only one to lose someone I cared about, and that I had to deal with it. And I wasn't. Everyone lost people they cared about—including you."

"Yes, I did," Hermione said, feeling the loss and pain she'd been fighting down beginning to rise again. "But I wasn't the only one either—Ron lost his brother, Harry lost his godfather—so many others lost family members--it was horrible."

"Hermione, you lost people you loved, too, and it was just as painful. You've been filling in the holes," Snape said softly. "You've been using your studies to fill up every moment of every day since the end of the war, so you didn't have to feel those holes. It doesn't matter if those people who died were relatives, Hermione. Your grief isn't less than anyone else's. That sting is there and you can't block it out. You can't block them out. You can't pad the rest of your life."

Tears began to flow down Hermione's cheeks as Snape told her what had been inside her heart for all these months since the death of Cedric Diggory, Albus Dumbledore and so many others until the culmination of Voldemort's death. All the pain she tried to shut out. All the people she never let go of, but left unburied inside her.

"I know about holes, Hermione. My entire life is one great hole. Nearly everyone I knew is gone, whether I loved or hated them. There was a void inside me, and I'm realizing that opening up and letting people in is the only way I can continue on and be happy. Harry has helped, even Ron a little and then, there's you. It takes people, Hermione, not lessons and marks to heal and to grow. You have to care for the people in your life, take them in and let them fill that void. And let them know they fill that void. I have a feeling that the first time around, I didn't realize that, but I do now."

Hermione blinked up at him for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely as she sobbed.

"But, you let me in, Hermione," he said against her ear as he embraced her. "You've discovered your heart again. It's all right to feel. In fact, it's wonderful to feel."

Hermione and Snape embraced in silence for about five minutes, before Hermione pulled away from him, her face red and eyes wet.

"Severus," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"You were a lot less talkative when you were an adult."

"What? Are you calling me a chatterbox?"

"Not exactly. You just didn't talk so much when you were going to do something. You kept it to yourself and just did it."

"I wasn't in love then."

"Oh."

Severus loosened his hold on her.

"Besides, you can be rather thick, Hermione. Sometimes it's necessary to take time to explain things to you, rather than wait for you to catch on. Although you call the thickness 'preoccupation.' Same animal, really."

"Thick?" she said pulling back. Snape smiled at her.

"We do very interesting foreplay, Hermione," he said. "Bouts of arguments, punctuated by kisses and embraces, then topped off with a rousing round of rather vengeful, selfish sex."

"What? We don't do that?" she said to him, frowning, but his last comment slipping away.

"We do now," he said, tossing her over his shoulder and running for his bedroom, Hermione beating him on the back while she laughed.

Snape fell into the bed with her and they wrestled a bit, Snape finally letting Hermione pin him to the bed, her hands holding his down by the wrists as they both panted.

"I do love you, Hermione Granger," he said quietly as soon as he caught his breath.

Hermione gave him a soft smile.

"And I love you just as much, Severus Snape," she replied, freeing his wrists and lowering her lips to his.

Snape was wrong about their foreplay, and the sex that followed. This round wasn't as nearly as creative and torturous as their last encounter and there was nothing vengeful or selfish about it. In fact, it was quite the opposite, the couple face to face most of the time, the only position changes being who was on top at any given time. There was a lot of deep kissing, caresses and tender words, mostly on the part of Snape, who dominated the act, Hermione content to receive his passion, and tenderness, to in fact, let him in.

She did have her moments too, however, riding him to near-ecstasy before the wizard flipped her back over desperately, not wanting their encounter to end too soon.

"Say you love me," he breathed down at Hermione, his body undulating as he drove into her over and over, his movements sensual, his hips twisting slightly as he claimed and caressed her body, her arms entwined around his neck.

"I love you," Hermione breathed back at him, then arched as he filled her as deeply as he could, trying to get as close, as deep, as all encompassing as was humanly possible.

"I love you, too," he hissed, covering her mouth with his own and never letting up on his possession. Severus Snape lasted a long, long time that night, and made sure that Hermione Granger knew that her love was treasured and returned seven-fold. When they both collapsed, their entire bodies feeling as flaccid as Snape's ample tool, they lay against each other, sated and sleepy, their bodies slick with perspiration and release.

Hermione kissed Snape softly, and the wizard opened his eyes, his wet hair plastered against his skull. Hermione's hair was a riot of wild ringlets.

"That was—intense," she said to him softly.

Snape smirked at her.

"And lengthy," he added a bit proudly. "In more ways than one. It feels like I get bigger every time we do it."

"I'm sure it's all in your head," Hermione said, then paused and they both burst out laughing.

"I didn't mean it that way," she said as Snape hugged her to him and kissed her forehead.

"I never believed I'd ever be this happy with anyone," he said to her softly.

"I certainly never dreamed I'd be this happy with you," Hermione replied, her warm breath tickling his ear. "This is going to sound incredibly selfish, Severus, but—I'm glad you had that accident."

This statement was met with silence for several moments, then Snape said, "So am I."

This was followed by another long silence, then Hermione turned in his arms, looking toward the clock. It read twenty to one. Snape sighed mentally.

Curfew.

Hermione turned back in his arms and snuggled in comfortably, falling still. Snape didn't know what to make of this.

"It's almost curfew," he said to her softly.

Without opening her eyes, Hermione replied, "Bother curfew."

She snuggled in closer and after a minute or two, began to breathe rhythmically. She was asleep. Snape lay there, looking at her and smiling.

"Yes, bother curfew," he said softly, closing his own eyes and following her into dreamland.

* * *

A/N: Finally! Another chapter. I am sooo sorry for the long hiatus, but real life got in the way. Not too smooth a sailing lately. I'd like to give a big "big-ups" to Snapealicious, who bought me a pack of smokes. I've been out for days, completely broke since I've had to divert my funds to helping pay my daughter's car note. Well, paying it actually. This is the first time I've had a zero balance in all of my accounts. Usually, there'd be at least a dollar in each. Lol. But we have to do what we have to do. I'd like to let my readers know that I'm posting my original novel "At Shimmer's End" on the Burning Pen website and making it available for a donation of choice. I'm using the money to help keep Chi's car from being repo'd. It's the only family car we have and we live in the boondocks. It costs $20 to take a cab to the store one-way, so you know we have to keep that car. It's a work in progress but is over 86,000 words and will be completed in a few chapters. Visit the burningpen . com if you're interested and would like to be supportive. And Happy Birthday, Paula. I did it! And thanks for reading, everybody.


	70. A New Lease

**Chapter 69 ~ A New Lease**

The next morning, Snape and Hermione showered and more than showered together, losing themselves in each other's bodies and emotions, Hermione once again showing a shuddering, gasping Snape her oral skills and the wizard returning the favor. They both exited a little cleaner, albeit a little dirtier, smiles on their faces along with rather pruny hands and feet from being under the water too long.

They had their first intimate breakfast together and a rather hearty one, consisting of fried eggs, bacon, beans, toast and fried bread. They fed each other and almost had a food fight. After they ate, Hermione walked over to her still sloppily packed knapsack and studied the parchments and books scattered over the desk. Snape walked up beside her, also looking down at all the research.

"You know, I think I've compiled enough information for my NEWTs," Hermione said softly. "I have loads of well-written research, indexes, footnotes and endnotes. I could just—just bind them up and be done with it—if I had help."

Snape blinked at her. She'd had enough?

"I could use a bit more practice with my spell work, and need to brew a couple of difficult potions, but I really think I've done enough to get Outstandings in everything. Just the sheer volume is worth it. I need a bit more documentation of your Animagus form—but—"

She turned to Snape.

"I really think I can slow down now," she told him.

Snape nodded soberly.

"I'll help you compile everything," he offered. Inside, he was absolutely elated.

They began to gather up parchments, Hermione pulling more out of the cubbyholes as Snape stacked them together according to subject. Those cubbyholes held a lot of work and soon there were eleven foot high piles of parchment, one for each subject.

"I'll be able to spend more time with Harry and Ron," she said matter-of-factly as she sat down and drew a pile toward her. It had to be sorted. Snape sat down as well.

"Only Harry and Ron?" he asked her, pulling a stack towards himself.

"Oh, no. Ginny will get some time too," Hermione said, smirking as Snape scowled slightly. "But I'll probably spread out my tutoring, maybe take on a couple more students. A lot of them are really struggling."

"And me?"

"What about you?"

"Am I going to get a larger slice of the freedom pie?" Snape asked her.

"We'll see. But more than likely, since I need more documentation of your Animagus form. More flying, and I'm going to have to witness you hunting," she said with a shudder. "There's nothing like seeing it for myself."

They fell into companionable silence as they worked for about half an hour, then Snape said, "I liked having you here this morning, sharing breakfast with me. It was—nice."

"Yes, until you almost shoved a piece of bacon up my nose."

"You should have opened your mouth wider. I already know how big it is. Pretending it isn't huge doesn't change that."

Of course, that started an argument that ended up with both of them on the floor, parchments scattered around them as they snogged madly. Hermione noticed the time however. She had students to tutor and after some effort managed to wrestle away from Snape.

He didn't make it easy.

"I've got to go," she told him, trying not to smile as she fixed her robes. Snape studied her. There was something softer, more relaxed about her. Something he liked very much.

"All right. I'll stay here and sort these out for you," he said.

"Will you come to supper? I've decided I'm going to start going again. I really have been neglecting my friends."

Snape nodded.

"I'll be there," he promised her.

Hermione gave him a rather shy kiss and left his quarters. Snape let out a satisfied sigh, then sat down at the desk and eyed the stacks of parchments.

"I should get a NEWT for all of this," he muttered, starting on the closest stack. But he had a smile on his face.

* * *

"You're what?" Harry exclaimed after Hermione announced she was through studying for the NEWTs. They were in the Great Hall and it was suppertime.

"I'm finished. Done. It's over. All I have to do is put everything together. The rest of my year will be fancy free. Sort of. I still have documentation to do with Severus and plan our presentation for the Transfiguration NEWTs, then some brewing, but that's basically all."

Harry stared at her as Ginny smiled. Hermione looked very happy and flushed.

"Did you and Severus make up last night?" she asked her friend.

Hermione turned red enough for both Harry and Ginny to know there had been a makeup. Just then, the door opened and a very sober-looking Severus Snape walked in, dressed to the nines, his robes billowing slightly as everyone looked at him. He only had eyes for Hermione and walked up to the Gryffindor table, leaned down and kissed her cheek, then sat down beside her, Hermione blushing furiously.

"Did you see that?" Minerva gasped at Flitwick, who peered over at Snape and Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table. "He KISSED her."

"Ah, I believe he did, Minerva," the Charm teacher agreed, returning to his meal.

"But openly. In—in public," she continued.

"That's what witches and wizards do when they're an item. You know that, Minerva."

"An item? Severus and Hermione? Oh, Filius, it seems so wrong on so many levels," she said, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

Flitwick gave her a small smile.

"It wouldn't seem wrong, Minerva if you made yourself see him not as the man he once was, but the young wizard he is today. Look at him. Do you ever remember him smiling when he attended Hogwarts the first time? Or socializing in a group?"

Minerva watched as Snape, Harry, Ginny, Neville and several other students talked over their meals, Snape looking at Hermione from time to time with a thin smile and Hermione smiling back at him shyly. They both looked very happy. It was young love, plain and simple. Minerva felt her reservations start to melt away at seeing Severus finally fitting in and socializing. He couldn't have made better friends. It really was heartwarming.

"You're right, Filius," the headmistress said firmly. "He's no longer an outcast, is he? All he ever needed was someone to—to care. We didn't do such a good job the first time, did we?"

Her eyes began to fill as she remembered the lonely, unpopular and targeted young man he had been years ago.

She felt Filius pat her arm reassuringly.

"No, we didn't, Minerva. But it seems destiny has rectified our errors. His life is going to be much better this time around. I think it best if we don't interfere at all this time around. Just let him be."

Minerva looked over at Snape again. He was having a tug-of-war with Ron, who had just arrived, over a large chicken leg, the last on the platter.

"Oi! You've been sitting here for hours stuffing your face, Severus. Let go!" Ron said, pulling on the leg.

"I can still see gravy on your chin from your girlfriend's last feeding," Snape sneered back at him, not letting go. "I can smell the roasted beef you just ate, you glutton!"

"Glutton?" Ron cried, incensed. "I'm not a bloody glutton. I just have a high metabolism! Now, let go!"

Ron gave a particularly hard tug on the chicken leg just as Snape did as he asked and let go. Ron tumbled backwards over the bench to the floor, limbs askew, but held up the chicken legs victoriously before getting to his feet. He reddened slightly at the laughter around him before he sat down. Hermione had her head in her hand, shaking it as Ron bit into the leg blissfully, Snape smirking at him.

"You can't keep a Weasley down," Snape said, still smirking.

"No you can't. Especially when there's food involved," Ron agreed unabashedly around his mouthful of chicken.

Everyone laughed, and Minerva wiped at her eyes. It was so wonderful to see Severus have the kind of school experience he deserved. Merlin knew he deserved so much more than he received the first time. So, he was involved with Hermione. They were both young adults and well matched academically. A much better match than she and Weasley, who also appeared very happy with his new girlfriend, Susan Bones. Maybe she could do something about his bottomless stomach.

Minerva let out a sigh that released her final misgivings.

Flitwick was right. She'd just let him be.

* * *

When Hermione returned to Snape's quarters that evening, she found her NEWT materials separated and stacked, in perfect order. She was very pleased about it, and wanted to get to work binding them.

"I was hoping we could go flying," Snape said, blocking access. "It's been a while."

Hermione looked at the neatly stacked parchments longingly for a moment, then sighed. She had plenty of time to do that.

"All right, Severus," she agreed and was rewarded with a smile and a little kiss.

"Let's go," Snape said, taking her arm and leading her into his office. He opened the door to the corridor and stopped, a small scowl on his face as Hermione looked completely shocked.

Standing in the doorway was Lucius Malfoy. His cold gray eyes swept over Hermione for a moment, then he looked at Snape and smiled.

"Ah, Severus," the pureblood said, inclining his head at him. "I dropped by for a friendly little visit. It seems as if you're 'occupied.'"

He said this a bit dismissively, and Hermione blushed, removing her arm from Snape's.

"I can go. I'll meet you outside, Severus," she said softly, then walked around Lucius quickly, before Snape could protest.

Damn it.

Snape frowned at Lucius.

"I've already signed the contract, Lord Malfoy. We know where we stand," Snape said shortly.

"Ah, yes. But I just wanted to have a friendly visit with you. It doesn't all have to be about business, Severus. I'd like us to be friends. Now, you will invite me in for at least a small drink, considering I've traveled all this way to see you?"

Snape let out a sigh and stepped back, allowing Lucius to enter his office, then opened the wall and let him through. He'd so much rather be with Hermione.

He watched as Lucius familiarly made himself a Firewhiskey. He turned to Snape.

"Would you like one?" he asked the young wizard.

"No," Snape said shortly, walking up to the fireplace and taking a seat in one of the two armchairs resting before it. He wore an impatient look on his pale face.

Lucius took the seat beside him, swirling his glass slowly before taking a sip. Snape watched, hoping he'd knock it back, but he didn't. He shifted in his seat.

"I've managed to secure Boleskin House for you," the blonde wizard said, looking at him thoughtfully. "And at an extremely low rental fee."

Snape nodded and Lucius pulled a parchment out of his inner robe pocket and offered it to him.

"What's this," Snape asked, looking very suspicious.

"It's a standard waiver stating that the owners are not responsible for your—safety should you take up residence," Lucius said with a slight smirk. "Boleskin House has quite the reputation. Few people have stayed there long, and those who did, are probably still there—in some form."

"I know the reputation of the house. I can handle a few demons," Snape said, taking the parchment from him, standing up and walking over to his writing desk. He dipped a quill into an ink bottle and signed the waiver, blowing on the ink so it dried, then folding it and handing it back to Lucius, who tucked it back into his pocket. Snape sat back down.

"I see you are dallying with that Muggle-born, Hermione Granger," Lucius said in an off-handed manner.

Snape didn't say anything.

"She's quite a brilliant witch, although her looks leave something to be desired," the wizard mused. Snape felt his belly tighten.

"But I suppose you have to have something to occupy your free time at Hogwarts. I will provide you with adequate companionship as a kind of perk when you move to Boleskin," the wizard said with a smile.

"I don't need that," Snape said coldly.

Both of Lucius' eyebrows rose in surprise.

"You haven't even seen the witch. I just need to know your preference. Do you still have a thing for—redheads?"

"I don't need companionship. If you send a witch there, I will turn her away," Snape declared. "I already have a witch."

Lucius snorted.

"Surely you don't mean Miss Granger? She's only a four or five at best. A wizard of your abilities deserves a nine or ten at least."

"I said I don't want companionship and I mean it. Why would I want a witch you pay for? That's not a real companion, that's a whore."

"Well, you didn't have a problem sleeping with whores when you were an adult," Lucius said with a bit of a sneer.

Snape sat there in silence, but trembled slightly.

"Please finish your drink, Mr. Malfoy, as we are finished here," he said tightly.

Lucius smirked, knowing he'd hit a sore spot with the young wizard. He swallowed down the rest of his drink, put the glass on the small table between the chairs and stood up. Snape rose also.

Lucius stuck out his hand, and Snape just took it, giving him a weak handshake.

"You're a very foolish young man to turn away the niceties I'm offering you," he stated.

"If it isn't in the contract, I don't want it," Snape said evenly.

"Suit yourself, Severus. I'm afraid you're going to have to set Boleskin House up yourself. I can't find anyone who wishes to enter it."

"That's fine," Snape said, anxious for Malfoy to leave.

"Very well. I won't be contacting you again until you've settled in. Send me a list of what you will need to make everything comfortable for you. It will all be waiting for you outside of the house when you arrive."

"Thank you," Snape said, moving toward the exit, giving the wizard a hint.

Lucius smirked again and departed. Snape was still an obnoxious bastard, no matter his age. But a brilliant one. He was sure his investment in his future was a wise one.

Snape watched as he exited, then waited a while, not wanting to walk with him up the corridor. After he was sure he was gone, he exited as well.

He wanted to find Hermione and apologize for letting her leave.

* * *

A/N: Ah, another chapter. It's amazing what having my smokes can do. But I was so starved, they're almost gone. Lol. I was puffing like a train. But I did two chapters today, so I'm very happy. Thanks for reading. ***


	71. Another Offer

**Chapter 70 ~ Another Offer**

Lucius Malfoy emerged from the castle and saw Hermione sitting on the steps, obviously waiting for Snape. He started to pause and speak, but her eyes were averted, so he didn't bother. He wouldn't have said anything remotely nice and he really didn't want to totally alienate Snape.

Hermione watched the blond wizard walk across the grounds toward the gate, scowling slightly. Presently, Snape emerged and hurried over to her. He was wearing the satchel. After the run-in with the Chimeras, he wouldn't leave Hogwarts without it.

"I'm sorry about that," he said to Hermione sincerely. "I wish you would have stayed. You didn't have to go."

"It was better that I left or he would have just kept trying to see you. I am familiar with Lord Malfoy," Hermione said, a note of dislike in her voice. Snape picked it up quickly.

"You don't approve of Lord Malfoy," he said to her as she stood up and began walking down the stairs.

"Do you think we could walk to the Forbidden Forest, Severus?" she asked him.

"Of course," he replied, knowing there probably was a reason she wanted to walk.

"And no, I really don't approve of Lord Malfoy," she replied. "He's not to be trusted, Severus."

Snape smirked.

"He's a Slytherin. Of course he's not to be trusted," the wizard replied. "But he doesn't seem as bad as a lot of wizards. I read about him and his family in Hogwarts, a history. He spent several years under the Imperious curse serving Voldemort, and his wife was the reason Harry survived the final battle. She lied for him and said he was dead when he wasn't. I think you would be grateful considering he is such a close friend of yours."

Hermione scowled.

"I am grateful, to Lady Malfoy," Hermione said quietly, then she looked up at him. "But, Lucius Malfoy's history has been tampered with, Severus. It isn't all in there. Hardly anything is. He's done some terrible things, but since his wife helped to end Voldemort's reign, it's all been prettied up and wiped away."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. When you have money and influence, you can make things disappear. Even in the wizarding world," Hermione said, anger in her voice. "He's really not to be trusted, Severus. Believe me."

They walked in silence for several minutes, then Snape said, "Well, tell me some of the things he's done and gotten away with."

"I don't even know where to start!"

"The beginning is a good place," Snape suggested, placing his arm around her shoulder as they walked side by side.

"All right. Lucius Malfoy strongly believed in pureblood superiority and was in the first war under Voldemort. He stayed out of Azkaban by claiming he was under the Imperio curse. He had enough money and influence to get away with that lie."

"Sounds like he was simply resourceful," Snape said thoughtfully.

"You would think that," Hermione said, "but he got away with murder, literally."

Snape didn't say anything. It was clear the soapbox was coming out.

"He hated Arthur Weasley, Ron's dad, because he did raids on wizarding homes and confiscated dangerous, dark magic objects. Malfoy had a lot of them. He planted one on Ginny Weasley to try and discredit Mr. Weasley, but the item, a diary, contained the memory of Tom Riddle and the secret to opening the Chamber of Secrets. Lord Malfoy was the reason the basilisk was released, Dumbledore removed as headmaster, and Ginny and Harry and other Muggle-Borns nearly killed. Of course, nothing happened to him, except he lost his position on the Governor's Board and his House Elf servant, Dobby. Even after all that, he got his position back. We later found out that diary had contained a Horcrux."

"Didn't you get petrified by that basilisk?" Snape asked her. He'd read about that.

"Yes I did," Hermione snapped, reddening at the memory. She had missed all the excitement because of that stupid creature. Damn Malfoy.

"Oh," Snape said softly. He smirked a little. Hermione had to hate Lord Malfoy just because of that little incident. "Tell me more."

"Well, when his son Draco provoked a Hippogriff named Buckbeak, Lucius prosecuted it and had it sentenced to death when it was all Draco's fault."

"Doesn't Harry own that animal? How is that possible if it was supposed to die?"

"Well, Buckbeak got away," Hermione said, not offering any more information. Information such as Sirius Black got away too, with the help of her Time Turner. Severus wouldn't have appreciated that info.

"Then Lucius was one of the Death Eaters that tortured a Muggle and his family at the Quidditch World Cup," she hissed. "It was horrible. They even tortured the children!"

Hermione's face blackened.

"Then he attacked us at the Ministry with other Death Eaters. They were trying to get the Prophecy. They would have gladly killed all of us if they could, but we held them off until the Order of the Phoenix could arrive. He was locked up in Azkaban until Voldemort got him out. Then he let them use his mansion as a base of operations. I know. I was there."

Snape didn't say anything although he heard the bitterness in her voice.

"But because of his wife saving Harry, he got away with all he did, Severus. Draco too. He was the one who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts in the first place—"

Hermione stopped speaking because this information was linked to Snape killing Dumbledore—

"It's not fair. People have no idea of the wicked things Malfoy has done. He should be locked up," Hermione hissed. "You shouldn't have anything to do with him."

Snape lifted an eyebrow at her.

"You didn't say that when I told you about his offer. You said it was a great opportunity," he reminded her.

"Well, it is—was. That was before I fell in love with you. I'm afraid his sliminess will get all over you by association."

Snape chuckled, pulling her in tighter for a moment, then relaxing his hold.

"Sliminess notwithstanding, Hermione, it's the best offer I have and if I had to work I wouldn't be able to devote myself to my art. For me, it's not the means—but the end result that matters. Considering that I let Voldemort sponsor me the first time, Lord Malfoy is actually a step up. What's next up from slime?"

"More slime," Hermione hissed.

Snape chuckled as they approached the perimeter of the forest.

"Time to transform," he said, taking his arm off her shoulder and handing her the satchel.

"It's heavier," Hermione said as she put it over her shoulder and chest.

"I packed some 'extras," Snape said obliquely, then changed into his gryffin form, complete with magic saddle. He squawked at Hermione, then struck a pose, lifting one talon and arching his neck.

"All right, you're beautiful. How many times do you need to hear that?" Hermione muttered at him. Snape made a chuckling noise then crouched to let her mount. She climbed on and grabbed his neck as he suddenly took off running—away from the forest.

"Hey, where are we going?" Hermione cried, lying low as Snape streaked across the grounds then leapt into the air, flapping strongly toward the mountains in the distance.

Hermione held on as they flew over the surf, admiring the sky as the sun sunk lower, hues of pink, orange, purple and blue painting the canvas of the sky, coloring the clouds in beauty.

Snape swept upward, landing on the top of a mountain and letting Hermione off before transforming back.

"Why are we here?" she asked him.

"To watch the sun set," he replied softly, taking the satchel from her, reaching inside and taking out a blanket. He spread it on the ground and helped Hermione down, then sat beside her, breathing in the cool air as his black eyes drank in the beauty around him and next to him. He slipped an arm around Hermione's waist as she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them sighed contently.

"Just a couple of days ago, Hermione, you couldn't have sat still long enough to watch the sun set," Snape said softly. He could smell the jasmine in her hair.

"I would have been worrying about the NEWTs," she agreed. "Somehow, they don't feel as important anymore. I felt almost as if my life depended on them. I didn't realize I was hiding, Severus. I thought it was because I was trying to show how smart I am, how much of a witch I am. I need to be exemplary."

"You already are. The history books show it clearly, Hermione. You are a witch among witches and people will know it centuries from now," Snape reassured her.

They were silent for a few moments, then Hermione said, "I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life, Severus. No idea at all. I've talked about several careers but I can't seem to focus on even one. All I see are possibilities. I need to know--"

Snape smiled.

"You'll be good at anything, Hermione. Don't stress over it or try to force it. You'll settle in. Perhaps you should just hang about a year or two," he suggested.

"Hang about? I have to have a job, Severus. You know—money?"

"I'll have money. I'll share it with you," he replied. "You can help me with potions at Boleskin house for a year or two. Find out if you want to go into the field of Potions. Sort of a trial run. We'd be doing interesting experiments. Enough to keep your mind filled with thoughts and ideas, plus you'd have all the supplies you'd need."

Hermione pulled away and stared at him.

"You want me to—to shack up with you?" she asked him incredulously.

"I didn't say shack up. I said work with me," he countered. "Of course, you'd stay there."

Hermione continued looking at him.

"You could have your own bedroom," he added. "But—no pressure."

"Oh, none at all," Hermione said sarcastically.

But it did sound exciting, and worthwhile. Severus was right. She could dabble as much as she liked, and there were a few potions she'd like to experiment with. Besides, he'd be there and that was a definite perk.

"It's just a suggestion," he said tightly. His brow was wrinkled as he looked at the horizon.

"Not a bad one," she replied, and he looked at her, hope in his dark eyes.

"It wouldn't be such a lonely pursuit with you there," Snape said.

His first go round, Snape had become used to being alone. But now, he wanted Hermione with him. She was a large part of his new world.

"I'll think about it," Hermione said, pulling him down into a soft kiss.

It lasted quite a while. When they broke, Snape suddenly stood up and offered her his hand.

"Come on, there's something else I'd like to do," he told her.

Hermione took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Together they folded up the blanket and Snape deposited it into the satchel, then handed it to her.

He transformed.

"Where are we going?" she asked the gryffin, who squawked at her imperiously before crouching.

"All right. All right," she said, mounting. Snape leapt off the mountain and folded his wings back, going into a dive and heading for the surf below, Hermione's hair streaming back as she did her best not to shriek.

He pulled up at the last minute and flew along the shoreline until they reached a beach and small cove. It was getting dark now. He landed and let Hermione off, transforming back.

"Why are we here?" she asked Snape, who took his satchel from her, took out the blanket again along with two magical lamps, which he lit, placed on the sand, then spread out the blanket.

"Oh, now we're going to watch the sea," Hermione said to him as he pulled out his wand.

"Not exactly," he said, pointing it at himself.

"Divesto," he breathed, removing all of his clothes.

"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes rounding at his nakedness. "What in the world are you doing?"

"Going skinny-dipping. Now, your turn."

Hermione squealed and ran, pursued by Snape, who kept casting the Divesto spell at the laughing witch, who dipped and dodged. She looked back at him, everything bobbling and swinging as he chased her and shrieked with laughter again before he finally hit her with the spell, removing all her clothing.

"Severus," she squealed as he grabbed her wrist and walked her back to the blanket where he deposited his wand.

"Come on," he said, starting to walk toward the surf. Hermione stalled.

"The water's cold," she complained, her nipples already tight in anticipation of the cold water.

"You'll get used to it," Snape said. "It's warm out."

"Not that warm."

"I'm not about to argue with you. I want to go skinny-dipping and we're going skinny-dipping, the wizard declared, swinging her up into his arms and determinedly walking toward the water. Hermione clung to his neck as he entered the water.

"No!" she laughed, hanging on as Snape tried to chuck her into the surf. After several attempts at dunking her, Snape just walked further out and fell into the water with her.

"Arrrrgh!" Hermione screamed, flailing about before she stood up, hugging herself and her teeth chattering. Snape stood up and wiped the water streaming down his face.

"There. Now, that wasn't so bad was-- phlpthpth!"

Hermione had swung her arm on the surface of the water and hit him squarely in the face with a nice heavy slice of water that got in his mouth and his nose, making him splutter. Then, she pushed him so he fell back, completely submerged in the surf. He wrestled to get up.

"No, that wasn't too bad at all," she replied as he lunged at her and she tried to run. A flurry of fighting and dunking ensued, both witch and wizard swallowing quite a bit of water as they gamboled about, splashing and tackling each other before Snape finally grabbed Hermione and kissed her soundly, their wet bodies pressed against each other.

It didn't take long for that kiss to become something else as the moon rose, casting its monochromatic light on the young lovers below.

They ended up on the shore, sand sticking all over their bodies as they lay side by side, looking up into the sky, catching their breath and smiling.

"I like being in love," Hermione said softly.

"So do I," Snape agreed. "I like everything about it except the sand between my cheeks."

Hermione cracked up hysterically as the surf gently lapped against the shore.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Just cementing their relationship a little. It makes for a great transitional chapter too. Now I'm trying to decide if I will do a blow by blow NEWTs description, or just give a bit of info and the results for each person so we can move to post-Hogwarts action and what happens at Boleskin House. Thanks for reading. ***

A/A/N: For those of you wondering about the change to Chimeras rather than Manticores, I had to change it a few chapters back because I meant Chimeras and gave a description of them, rather than Manticores. They are just as dangerous though. Just wanted to clear that up. :)


	72. Pairing Off

**Chapter 71 ~ Pairing Off**

"Come in," Minerva said, looking over her glasses toward the office door. It opened and Susan nervously entered.

"Miss Bones," Minerva said with a smile.

"Hello, Headmistress," Susan said, walking up to the desk, slightly reddened.

"Please, take a seat," Minerva offered. Susan sat down.

"Now, how can I help you?" Minerva asked her.

"I—I need a—an Animagus Registration form," she said softly.

Both of Minerva's eyebrows rose.

"A registration form? How long have you been seeking your form, Miss Bones? I had no idea. You aren't taking Transfiguration NEWTs," the witch said as she opened the drawer.

Susan reddened even more.

"Not to be rude, Headmistress, but I'd rather not say how long I've been working on it," Susan said apologetically. "But it's important that I don't share that until after the NEWTs. It's part of someone else's project."

"Ah, I see. Miss Granger is doing something similar with Severus for her NEWTs. Would you mind telling me what your Animagus form is at least?"

"No, I can't do that either. It has to be 'unveiled,'" Susan said with a small smile.

Minerva tsked.

"Such secrecy," she said, rising and going to the file cabinet and retrieving the form. She returned to her desk, opened a little pad and retrieved a stamp. She pressed the stamp into the ink and then to the form, dating it. She waved it around a bit to dry, then offered it to Susan.

"You have ten days to register, Susan, or there will be hefty fines and possible arrest. Just keep that in mind," she told the witch a little tightly.

Susan took the form and rose.

"Thank you, Headmistress. I'll be sure to register by then."

"You will have to provide pictures as well, and focus on identifying marks. You can either return the form and information to me or send it directly to the Ministry by owl," Minerva told her. "Just be sure you do so before the time is up. The law is very strict on this."

"Yes, Headmistress. Goodbye," Susan said, exiting the office.

Minerva sighed and sat down.

"Doesn't Miss Bones go out with Mr. Weasley, Minerva?"

Minerva spun in her swivel chair to look at Albus' portrait.

"Why, yes she does. Why?"

"I was just—wondering. I daresay this group of NEWT students is going to be exemplary this year

"I've never seen so many Animagi in one school year," Minerva replied. "Severus, Mr. Weasley and now Susan Bones. And not one of them informed the school of their attempts. Well, in Severus' case, when he attended Hogwarts the first time around, he didn't show any interest in finding his form. Mr. Weasley and Miss Bones—"

Suddenly, Minerva stopped talking, putting two and two together. Her brows furrowed.

"Something is going on here," she said softly.

The portrait smiled at her.

"It seems history is repeating itself, except the first three students to discover their forms in one year didn't register them," it said, blue eyes twinkling.

"They would have if I had known," Minerva said, then narrowed her eyes at the painting. "But you knew, didn't you, Albus? You knew James, Sirius and Peter were Animagi."

"I had my suspicions, but I never knew for certain, Minerva. If I had, then I would have been able to see through Wormtail's deception," the painting replied heavily.

It was talking about how Peter Pettigrew hid in plain sight as Ron Weasley's rat familiar, Scabbers.

"Well, at least this set follows the law. But, now I'm curious," Minerva said.

"I'm sure you'll find out the details after the NEWTs," the painting reassured her.

Minerva couldn't help thinking a few doses of Veritaserum would put her in the know in a more timely manner. Ah well, the NEWTs would be taken in a couple of months and all the mystery would come to light then.

She returned to her desk and her duties.

* * *

Hermione had moved a couple of students to Saturday mornings and added a couple of more to her tutoring sessions, so after breakfast, Severus returned to his quarters while she worked with her "pupils." She'd make a good teacher if that's what she decided to do.

After walking Hermione back to Gryffindor tower after their 'flight,' Snape began to wonder about something, something concerning Lily and his former feelings for her. He fell asleep on it, but now, since he was going to be alone for a few hours, the thought arose again.

He sat down in an armchair and looked into the flames of the fireplace, brooding.

"I need to find out," he said to himself, but he didn't make a move for several minutes.

Finally he sighed and pulled his wand out of his pocket, looking at it as if it might explode. It wouldn't, of course, but it was going to show him something that would definitely be affecting.

Snape stood up and walked around the armchair, moving to the center of his study. He drew in a deep breath and raised his wand. He thought of his latest happiest moment, which happened to be last night with Hermione.

"Expecto Patronum!" he hissed.

Silver light exploded from the tip of his wand and his Patronus formed. He blinked at it as it undulated through the air around him. It had changed dramatically.

"An otter?" he said, frowning at the little beast joyfully swooping, gliding and twisting around him as if swimming through water. It certainly was active. But—an otter?

A doe had been embarrassing enough. But this proved one thing, that he was truly over Lily Evans. Why he had an otter for a Patronus was beyond him. Maybe because he'd gone skinny-dipping with Hermione? There were such things as Sea Otters.

He let the creature gambol about for nearly forty-five minutes, letting it grow on him. It was rather entertaining as it snuffled at his books and swam through his study, investigating everything. Snape smiled as he watched it and felt its warmth whenever it came near. A feeling of happiness grew inside him. But that was the nature of a Patronus. It was a positive, protective force that strengthened its master in the face of a number of situations, such as a Dementor attack or some other dark force.

Finally, Snape ended the spell, and felt so good, he decided to go find Harry and see what he was up to.

As he exited his office, he ran right into Draco Malfoy, who addressed him, an excited look in his eyes.

"Hi Snape," he said to the dark wizard.

"Malfoy," Snape returned, starting up the corridor. Draco fell in beside him.

"I spoke to my father yesterday. He says you're going to move into Boleskine House," the pureblood said.

"That's right," Snape admitted.

"He says that he couldn't get anyone to help move your things inside the house, because, well—I'm sure you know."

"Demons," Snape said shortly.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to ask you something. When you go to move in, I'd like to come with you, help you get situated," Draco said, looking hopeful.

Snape stopped walking.

"Draco, last time a demon appeared, you flew the other way," he responded, frowning at Draco. "I don't see how you could be of much help."

"That's just it. I need to face my fears, Snape."

"Draco, I have to be honest. I don't think it would be wise to have someone with me who I can't count on in a tight spot. I understand why you want to come, but there's no guarantee you'll actually face your fear. You could run away screaming."

Draco scowled at him now. He hated Snape saw him as a coward.

"I solemnly swear I will stand with you against ANYTHING!" he hissed, invoking a Wizard's Oath, magic swirling all around them.

Snape blinked at him.

"A wizard's oath? Well, that's kind of a switch since I once took an Unbreakable Vow to protect you. A wizarding oath isn't as deadly, but it places the boot on the other foot. That oath is going to bind you to your promise to me for the rest of your life."

Draco shrugged.

"You did it for me," he said shortly. "Turnabout is fair play. Besides—I owe you."

Snape studied him, black eyes meeting gray.

"Very well. I'll let you know when we'll be departing," Snape told him, and Draco smiled, then shook his hand.

"You're all right, Snape," he said, happy he'd get another shot at proving himself.

"I just hope you'll be all right, Draco. Now I have to go."

Draco watched as Snape billowed up the corridor, then returned to Slytherin House and his private room. He closed the door and warded it, then pulled a huge book from under his mattress. He looked at the title.

Dealing with Demons.

He sat down at his desk, opened the book and began to read.

He'd be ready this time.

* * *

At a quarter to nine, Snape stood outside Gryffindor Tower, waiting for Hermione. He was dressed in his best dress robes, the ones with the serpents embroidered in it, and his boots were so polished, they could hurt your eyes if the light hit them just right. His hair was well brushed and silky looking. He ran his finger around his collar just a bit, not yet used to the robes.

Tonight was Slughorn's party, and the newly freed Hermione couldn't find a good enough reason not to accompany Severus. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Susan would be there, too. Susan wasn't exemplary to Slughorn, but she was Ron's date.

Ginny and Harry emerged from the tower first, Harry wearing dress robes and Ginny looking lovely in a clingy green dress that accentuated her slender shape and red hair. Snape gave her a formal bow when he greeted them, and she blushed slightly.

"Have you seen, Hermione?" Snape asked them.

"She's coming," Ginny said.

Then an "Oi!" sounded and they looked around to see Ron and Susan walking up the corridor. Ron wore dress robes and Susan was dressed in a black, shimmery dress with her hair swept up and pinned. It fit her quite nicely. Actually, she could have passed for a big, beautiful clothes model. Her make-up was nice and not overdone and silver and black earrings dangled from her ears.

Ron had his arm looped through hers proudly as they walked up.

"Hey," he said, followed by Susan's shy "hi."

Everyone greeted them, Harry and Snape looking at Susan. Snape had to admit although she was a large girl, she was quite attractive.

"Susan, you look great," Harry complimented her.

"Thank you, Harry. You look very nice, too. In fact, you all do. Ginny, green looks wonderful on you," Susan replied, blushing slightly.

Ron looked around then let out an exaggerated sigh.

"We're waiting for Hermione, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, and Ron rolled his eyes.

"She's going to take forever. She always does. Susan and I are going to go on ahead. I want to get a good head start on the finger foods," Ron said.

"Of course," Snape said dryly.

Ron ignored him. Snape simply didn't understand the Weasley metabolism.

"We'll see you there, Ron," Harry said, not wanting to leave Snape.

"Harry, you and Ginny go to the party. I'll wait for Hermione. There's no need for everyone to be fashionable late," Snape said to the wizard. He'd rather greet Hermione alone anyway. Right now, he felt like he had a chaperone with him. It was a little late for that.

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

"All right, then. We'll see you when you get there," Harry said, taking Ginny's arm and joining Ron and Susan. Snape watched as they walked up the corridor and out of sight. Then he turned back towards the tower, his dark eyes resting on the Fat Lady's portrait.

She became redder and redder and finally snapped, "It's not polite to stare!"

Snape bit back a scathing reply. He most certainly wasn't looking at her, but at the entrance. She just happened to be in front of it. Still, insulting the painting wasn't going to be helpful, so he sucked it up and looked around the area, then at his nails.

Suddenly, the Fat Lady's portrait swung back and Hermione emerged.

Snape's scowl lasted exactly one millisecond as he looked at Hermione.

She was dressed in a sleeveless, form-fitting gold sequined dress that fell mid-thigh. She also wore three-inch gold heels. Her hair was curly and pinned loosely with a scarlet and gold clip. She wore dangling scarlet and gold earrings and her face was made up nicely. She wore mascara, eyeliner and lipstick. The dress seemed to bring gold flecks out of her brown eyes. Snape's mouth fell open slightly as he stared at her, lateness definitely forgiven.

"Hi, Severus. I'm sorry I took so long," she said softly.

"I want to make your mascara run," he answered in a raw voice.

"WHAT?"

Snape blinked, then seemed to come back to himself.

"I said you look beautiful," he stated, trying to cover for himself.

Hermione harrumphed.

"That is not what you said, Severus, and you know it," she told him as he smirked.

"No, but it is basically the same sentiment, kind of. I want to make your mascara run because you look so beautiful."

"I wouldn't look very beautiful after that," she replied.

"To me, you would," he said softly, leaning in and kissing her tenderly. It was just a short greeting kiss, really, but Hermione felt it all the way down to her toes.

They broke the kiss, brown eyes meeting black eyes and for a moment the idea of skipping the party and going down to Snape's quarters flashed across both their minds. But only for a moment as Snape offered Hermione his arm.

"Let's put in our appearance," he said to her as she took hold.

"All right," Hermione said, and they began walking. Severus craned his head, looking down at her feet and the heels she wore.

"I like your shoes," he breathed.

"Thank you."

"No, you don't understand—I really like your shoes. They make your legs look so long and shapely. Very wrappable."

"Wrappable? Is that even a word, Severus?"

"Do you want me to use it in a sentence?" he asked her, his eyes glittering.

"No. I don't. I can only imagine what you'd come up with," she replied, reddening even as she tried to hide a smile. Severus was always so ready to get sexual, even if it were only verbally.

"Blast," he said, craning his head again at those delicious shoes.

As far as his 'coming up' with something, he wouldn't mind those heels up in the air. Hermione had struck gold with those shoes.

Snape was well on his way to developing a slight fetish for Hermione in heels.

* * *

A/N: Wow, I wrote this chapter without any smokes at all. I'm miserable, but I got it done. I received a generous donation three days ago (thanks LS*), but I had to use it all on the Phone and Internet bill which was badly overdue and had late charges. Can't lose my internet. I'd die. Lol. Well, maybe not die, but I don't even want to think what it would be like. Anyway, I hope y'all liked the chapter. By the way, I'd like to remind you about my original story and WIP "At Shimmer's End" available for a donation of choice at theburningpen . com. I have nine readers so far. That's kind of sad but I'm staying positive. Anyway, thanks for reading.


	73. A Party in More Ways than One

**Chapter 72 ~ A Party in More Ways than One**

In an attempt to get Severus' focus off of her shoes, Hermione talked about Professor Slughorn as they walked. She was mildly successful because he was forced to look at her, rather than her shoes out of politeness, but his eyes kept shifting downward.

"I find Professor Slughorn's parties distasteful because he excludes so many students. He only invites famous students, the relatives of famous people or people who are gifted in some way. He didn't give Ron the time of day until after Voldemort fell. It's really bad for peoples' self-esteem."

Snape snorted.

"I wouldn't give his party the time of day if I hadn't made an agreement with him to do it," Snape said, frowning. "When I attended Hogwarts, Slughorn didn't give me a second glance and I was brilliant in Potions. Better than Lily. In fact, I tutored Lily in Potions and she helped me with Charms. It's how we both became proficient early."

Hermione thought maybe it was because Severus had been such a loner that Slughorn didn't embrace him. From what she knew, he wasn't the most social of wizards back then.

"He likes fame," Hermione said. "But, he doesn't want to be famous—he wants to influence famous people and get perks from knowing them. Like free Quidditch tickets and being able to advise people in high positions, things like that."

"He is a Slytherin," Snape replied. "Making good contacts is part of our philosophy. That he wants to benefit from his contacts is no surprise. There are worse things he could do."

"Yes," Hermione agreed as they took the shifting stairwells down to the first floor. "A lot of people thought he was a coward for the longest time. He hid out, you know, trying to avoid being recruited by Voldemort. He was the one who told him about Horcruxes. He hid that for a long time until Harry got it out of him. Without that knowledge, we couldn't have destroyed the Dark Lord."

"So, Slughorn is a hero?" Snape asked her.

"I'm not sure if you can call him that, since he was the one who put Voldemort on his evil path. It wasn't on purpose, but still—"

Snape frowned.

"Well, I made the elixir that gave him more power," Snape said softly. "So what does that make me?"

"You were young. You didn't know what he'd turn into, Severus."

"I knew enough. We were at war," the wizard replied sullenly.

"You spent your entire adult life trying to rectify that mistake, and you saved a lot of lives and made it possible for him to be killed by your sacrifice. If not for you, he might have realized Draco, and then Harry was the master of the Elder Wand. So stop going on about that. You're a hero, and I won't stand for you saying otherwise!"

Snape looked at Hermione's fierce expression. She looked as if she wanted to hex him. Did she believe in him that much? Obviously so. He felt his heart swell a little.

"All right," he said quietly.

"Yes, it is all right," she muttered as they walked toward the Dark Arts classroom where the party was being held. They could hear music and low chatter.

"Here we go," Snape said as they entered the open doors.

The desks had been removed from the classroom and tables and comfortable seating areas placed strategically for the guests' comfort and to inspire conversations. There were several lit ice sculptures that doubled as fountains. Juice, wine and other libations flowed freely. All one had to do was capture their choice of drink in a goblet.

Some students not part of the Slug Club were there, dressed in crisp white jackets and serving the guests various finger foods. On the far side of the room, against a wall was a large display of photographs, all members and former members of the Slug Club. Harry and Ginny were standing in front of it, Harry looking at several pictures of his mother.

All together there was a group of about fifty people in attendance, most of them adults, and not all of them exactly human. The vampire Sanguini was in evidence, as well as his friend and companion Eldred Worple. The tall, pale creature's black eyes shifted over the crowd consideringly, then fell on Hermione, who shuddered and clutched Severus' arm tighter.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Sanguini, the vampire. He gives me the creeping fugwugs," she replied.

Snape followed her gaze and saw the vampire staring at them, wearing a small smirk. He was dressed in long black robes, had long, rather lank black hair, and a large nose.

"I think there might be a bit of resemblance between us," Snape said to Hermione, who hissed back at him, "There's NO resemblance at ALL!"

"I vant to bite your neck," Snape teased her, lifting his upper lip slightly and showing his slightly crooked white teeth. .

"Shut up."

They entered the room and immediately Ron and Susan appeared, Ron carrying a huge plate of hors d'œuvres. He was chewing on a small glazed chicken wing. Snape eyed him.

"If not for your dress robes, I'd swear you were a server, Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head as Susan grinned. Ron did love to eat.

"You'd find out you were wrong when he bites your hand off at the wrist when you attempt to take a piece," Snape interjected.

Hermione and Susan chuckled as Ron looked outraged.

He swallowed his food and said, "It's not that bad. I'd only take a finger or two."

This caused more laughter and Harry and Ginny walked up.

"Hi, Hermione. You look fantastic," Ginny said.

"Thanks," Hermione said, blushing and patting her hair a bit nervously. "You and Susan look very nice yourselves."

"I like her shoes," Snape said. Harry and Ron looked down at them.

"They look dangerous to me," Ron said. "One misstep and crack! There goes her ankle."

Harry thought they looked sexy. Ginny had on heels too, and he loved to see her in them as well. Susan wore shoes with a broad heel, not quite as high as those of the other witches, but still quite a nice pair.

Snape shook his head slightly, thinking Ron didn't have a clue as to what was sexy.

Suddenly, a smiling Slughorn appeared, looking directly at Severus and having eyes for no one else. He wore an old-fashioned waistcoat with gold buttons and his bald head shined as if he'd polished it just for the occasion. His white walrus-like mustache fluttered in delight as he looked at the young wizard greedily.

"You made it I see, Severus," the professor said gleefully. "Wonderful, wonderful. I wonder if I might borrow you for a few moments and introduce you to a few of my guests."

Snape frowned at Slughorn's rudeness. Didn't he see anyone else?

"I'm with my friends," Snape said tightly.

Slughorn's prominent eyes shifted around the small group of friends as if seeing them for the first time. They dulled slightly as they fell on Ron holding the plate of hors d'œuvres. He might be famous, but what a glutton he was. No couth at all. Still, Slughorn smiled.

"Ah yes, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley—and—er, who are you?"

"Susan Bones," Susan said softly, blushing slightly. Her hand was resting on Ron's arm.

"Ah, Miss Bones. Mr. Weasley's date. What house are you in?" Slughorn asked her.

"Hufflepuff."

"Oh, I see. Well, welcome to my little party, Miss Bones," Slughorn said a bit dismissively, turning back to Snape.

Ron frowned at the wizard, then patted Susan's hand.

"He's a git," he mouthed at her, and Susan gave him a small smile.

If Slughorn had any idea about Susan's food magic skills, he would have shown much more interest in her. Susan's magical hors d'œuvres would have taken his party to another level completely. Well, it was his loss.

"You don't mind if I borrow Severus for a bit?" he asked the group.

They couldn't very well say they did mind.

"Not at all," Hermione said as Snape shook his head slightly at her, signaling for her to say she did mind. But Hermione was too polite for that.

"Well, come along, Severus. We've people to impress," Slughorn said brightly, walking off.

"Thanks a lot," Snape hissed at everyone, then he followed Slughorn stiffly.

"Well, he should have expected it," Hermione said, looking after him. "Hopefully, it won't be too painful. Let's mingle."

Hermione and friends moved off into the crowd as Snape was led to a small group of wizards, Slughorn beaming proudly.

"Ah, members of the Council. You are of course familiar with Severus Snape?" he said, slipping an arm behind Snape and pressing him forward. "Severus, these are the currently seated members of the Ministry Council. Good men to know."

Introductions were made, and Snape felt distinctly uncomfortable as the Council members eyed him like some kind of novelty.

"So, it is true," one council member said. "You have youthened. Don't have any memories of your adult life at all?"

"No, I don't," Snape said shortly.

"That could be considered a blessing in your case. You were involved in some rather sticky business," another member said, frowning at him in obvious dislike. "Some believe you should be under Azkaban for the death of Albus Dumbledore."

An uncomfortable silence followed this statement, then Slughorn stepped forward, his eyes glittering.

"If not for Severus Snape, we would all be serving the Dark Lord, Gregory. You know his service and sacrifice. He is as much a hero as Harry Potter. And I find it distasteful that you would say such a thing to him when you know he has no recollection of his adult years. I thought better of you," Slughorn said angrily.

"Yet, this is amazing," another member said, cutting off the argument. "You actually found a way to permanently take years off of a human being. Do you have the potion?"

"No. This was an accident," Snape said tightly.

"It would be wonderful if you could retrace your steps and recreate it," the councilman said. "You'd make a fortune, and I wouldn't mind investing in such a product, as well as using it."

Snape didn't say anything to this. He already had Lord Malfoy backing him. He didn't need more stuffed shirts trying to profit from his abilities.

"Severus also has an amazing Animagus form. The most fascinating I've ever seen," Slughorn said proudly as Snape looked at him, startled.

"Really. What is his form?" another council member asked.

"Would you mind showing them, Severus?" Slughorn asked him.

"What? Here?" Snape replied, feeling uncomfortable.

"Yes. Surely you've transformed in the castle before," Slughorn said encouragingly.

People began to crowd around him, having overhead Slughorn praising him.

"Uh, oh. What's happening?" Harry said. "Everyone's gathering around Severus."

"What?" Hermione said, putting down her cup of pumpkin juice and looking over. Snape didn't look too happy. In fact, he looked a bit trapped.

"I'm going to see what's going on," Hermione declared, walking over and pushing her way through the crowd. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Susan followed her.

"Go ahead, Severus. Show everyone your form," Slughorn pressed.

Snape scowled. Everyone was standing around him expectantly. He saw Hermione push to the front of the crowd, her eyes questioning.

"Are you sure he's an Animagus?" someone in the crowd said. "It seems as if his talent is petrification. He's as stiff as stone."

Laughter rose as Snape's face contorted. He hated being laughed at.

"I'm not doing this," he suddenly said.

"Oh, come now, Severus. Everyone will be impressed, once they see your Animagus form," Slughorn cajoled him.

"No," Snape said stubbornly.

Ron, Harry, Susan and Ginny pushed through. Ron's blue eyes were narrowed as the crowd began to jeer at Snape. This was the wizarding world's cream of the crop? They were all arseholes.

"Snape never had an Animagus form," someone else called out from the crowd. "Unless 'slimy git' counts."

Hermione looked over to see Cormac McLaggen looking back at her smugly. He was the one who made the statement. Ooh, she couldn't stand him.

"Leave him alone. He doesn't have to prove anything to anyone here," Hermione cried, stepping out in defense of him.

"Horace, what were you thinking, inviting Snape here? Youthened or not, he's an undesirable, no matter what the history books say. Even after all this time he reeks of Voldemort."

"How dare you!" Hermione shouted at the distinguished looking wizard who made that statement.

"Severus is an exemplary wizard," Slughorn said in his defense. "He will become a wizard of consequence, mark my words!"

"He's filth," someone else cried and voices rose in agreement.

This was a wolf-pack mentality. Snape as a young wizard didn't appear as formidable or imposing as an adult. He was defenseless, and people who would have never dared insult him before, did so now and with great malice.

"Oh, no . . . this isn't going to work," Ron growled, pushing his plate of hors d'œuvres into Susan's hands.

"Ron, what are you going to do?" Susan asked him.

Suddenly, Ron transformed into his Orangutan form, screeching. Everyone looked at him startled, backing up as he ran through the crowd and began trashing the place. They wanted to see an Animagi? Well, here one was!

"Ron!" Hermione cried as he threw a table across the room, the wizards and witches running out of the way. Harry saw someone pull out a wand and point it toward Ron. He whipped out his own.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, blasting the wizard before he blasted Ron. More wands came out as Slughorn shouted for everyone to calm down. Soon there was a full out wizard's duel going on, hexes, food and people flying. Sanguini moved through the fighting throng, slipping the flying food and hexes, and occasionally mesmerizing a wizard here, a witch there, staying in the spirit of the occasion. He might even manage a light snack in all the confusion.

"Severus!" Hermione cried through the melee, trying to find the wizard. Suddenly she saw him, smirking as he blocked and blasted joyously. She ran over to him, ducking spells. Susan was protecting Ron as he continued his destruction. His pent-up anger about all those months of being ignored by Slughorn was finally being released.

Suddenly, he was hit and blasted against a wall. Susan let out a scream of outrage and suddenly transformed herself, charging through the crowd and knocking them left and right as she barreled through.

"Holy hamadryads!" Ginny yelled to Harry. They were standing back to back, hexing with the best of them. It was almost like the final battle all over again, although no deadly spells were being used. "Susan! She's an Elk!"

Yes, she was. A beautiful brown elk weighing about five hundred pounds as she plowed over a few people then returned to help Ron, who had recovered quickly, in his rampage.

Snape saw them and said to Hermione, "They're not going to have all the fun," then transformed into a gryffin, screeching in challenge. The entire room stopped fighting as they looked at the beautiful animal, stunned.

"He's a gryffin," someone said in amazement. Ron and Susan stopped their destruction and stared at Snape, who stared back at them with its black eyes for a moment, then struck a dramatic pose and let out another screech. Slughorn was sitting in a corner, his head in his hands. He looked up and saw Severus' Animagus form.

"Why couldn't he have done that from the start?" the wizard moaned. This had been a disaster. Tables were overturned, food was everywhere, covering everyone, and wizards and witches were stumbling about, recovering from hexes. Oh, this was awful.

Calm returned to the room, and Ron, Susan and Severus transformed back into human form. Susan had bits of food in her hair and on her dress, and Ron's robes were stained. Hermione's hair was standing up all over her head, coming loose in the excitement. Ginny's dress was torn and she had sweated off all her makeup. Harry was covered in food too.

"Come on," he said to his friends and the six of them beat a hasty retreat, unimpeded by the other guests, who were Scourgifying themselves.

One of the council members walked over to where Slughorn was seated.

"Horace," he said.

Slughorn looked up at him.

"This had to be your best party ever," the councilman said with a smile. He had a stuffed truffle clinging to his shoulder.

Slughorn blinked at him, then looked around the room. Although everyone was disheveled, many of them wore broad smiles. He couldn't believe it. He stood up and walked into the center of the room, looking at his guests.

"I thought we'd do something a bit different this time. The dueling, of course, was staged for your enjoyment," Slughorn pronounced.

Applause arose all around him as he bowed and smiled brightly.

This party would be the talk of the wizarding world for months, if not years.

* * *

Snape, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Susan ran down the corridor, hysterical with laughter until they reached the narrow staircase that led up to the shifting stairwells. They stopped, smiling and panting as they caught their breaths.

"Ron, I can't believe you did that!" Harry exclaimed, red-faced.

"They were all gits. You saw how they were ganging up on Snape just because he didn't want to transform," he said. "Who do they think they are?"

"Yeah," Susan said in agreement. "They were horrible to him. They deserved what they got. Professor Slughorn shouldn't have put him on the spot like that!"

Everyone agreed as Snape just looked at them. They had all come to his defense. Every one of them. He had never had anyone in his life like this before, now he had several loyal friends, ready to fight for him. His eyes glistened a little.

"We probably won't be invited to anymore Slug Club parties," Ginny said with a smile.

"You promise?" Hermione asked, grinning. Then she looked at Snape, who wore a sober expression on his face.

"Are you all right, Severus?" she asked him, concerned.

Snape nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He almost couldn't speak. But he managed.

"Thank you. All of you," he said a bit hoarsely.

Ron gave him a smile.

"Don't worry about it. We didn't do anything for you that you wouldn't do for any of us," he said confidently.

Snape studied him, then gave him a small smirk.

"Indeed," he responded.

* * *

A/N: When I started this chapter, I really didn't intend for it to go there. But the idea of a fight breaking out at the Slug Club was just too funny to me. Unfortunately, I had to reveal Susan's Animagus form early, but I think it was worth it. It's a cool form, too. I so enjoy writing Ron in this story. :) Thanks for reading.


	74. After the Party

**Chapter 73 ~ After the Party**

After Scourgifying themselves, the group decided not to waste the extra hours, and headed down the marble stairwell, intending on going out on the grounds when they ran right into Filch.

The Squib eyed Harry, Ron and Ginny with a frown, then looked at Snape. He was used to seeing him with Hermione, but this?

"Mr. Snape," Filch said in greeting.

"Good evening, Mr. Filch," Snape replied.

"Where are you heading?"

"Er . . . outside. Professor Slughorn's party—er—ended a bit early and we thought we'd take a turn around the grounds since we have an extra hour or two, technically—"

Filch squinted his eyes at Snape's companions. He could order them back to their houses if he wanted to, and he did want to do it. Heroes or not, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were trouble with a capital "T". The gods only knew what mischief they could get into. But, they were with Snape and he didn't want to ruin Snape's evening.

"All right, Mr. Snape, but they all have to be back in the castle and IN their houses by one o'clock," Filch told him. "And no funny business. Potter and Weasley are known for their shenanigans."

"There won't be any shenanigans, Mr. Filch. I'll take full responsibility," Snape promised.

"Not sure you should do that, Mr. Snape," Filch said, frowning again. "But, I can't pick your friends for you, so go ahead outside, all of you."

Everyone murmured their thanks and did just that, Filch looking after them with a frown.

"What a group to fall in with," he muttered, turning on his heel and heading up the marble staircase. "Nothing but trouble, the whole lot. If Snape still had his memories, he'd remember how they are and give them a wide berth. I hope they don't get the lad in a sticky situation. He's been through enough."

Once outside, Ron turned to everyone.

"Wow, I can't believe Filch didn't send us to our houses," he said.

"That's because he likes Severus," Hermione said with a smile. She was holding Snape's arm. "He gave him some salve to make his arthritis better."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Snape.

"So, you're at the bottom of Filch's catching everybody! He almost caught me the other night when I was sneaking back from snogging Susan after curfew. I ran down a corridor with my shirt pulled over my head so he couldn't see my hair, and—and he almost caught up to me before I realized it. I got away, but it was close!"

Snape simply shrugged.

"Fraternizing with the enemy," Ron groused as they all walked down the stairs, Snape smirking at his back.

"We're not going to be able to walk across the grounds in these heels," Ginny complained. Hermione had to agree. Susan's heel was broad enough not to break the ground.

"You could transfigure them into something more comfortable," Harry suggested.

"No!" Snape said quickly. "I'll carry you, Hermione."

He didn't want those shoes off her feet. He transformed into the gryffin complete with saddle. Hermione looked at him.

"Well, that solves my problem, but what about Ginny?" she asked.

Susan suddenly transformed into the elk. She snorted at Ginny and shrugged her shoulder, lowering her body.

"Oh! Cool!" she said, climbing on. Susan looked at Harry and tossed her head.

"Me too?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"Cool!" Harry said, climbing on after Ginny.

Ron transformed into his orangutan form and beat on his chest before leading them off, running across the grounds followed by the gryffin, elk and their human riders. The moon was still waxing and the landscape around them was well lit by its silvery light.

Snape and Susan walked side by side, Harry and Ginny grinning down at Hermione, who wasn't smiling at all as she looked at Susan and wondered how long she had been trying to become an Animagus. It was unsettling to see both she and Ron had animal forms. She wanted to know more as she watched her easily and gracefully carry Harry and Ginny.

Occasionally, Snape would screech at Susan, who made guttural noises back at him. Apparently, they could communicate with each other in their animal forms. Hermione felt a little envious at this. Suddenly, Snape began to trot, as did Susan, both Harry and Ginny clinging to the elk with their knees and Ginny hanging on to her neck as they bounced and laughed.

Ron barreled ahead, galumphing along, doing an occasional joyous tumble as they approached the Forbidden forest. Hermione couldn't help thinking about the Chimeras, but they had more than enough people to fight off an attack.

They entered the trees, Snape leading the way. Ron took to the trees swinging through the branches as Susan carefully picked her way through. After a few minutes, they came to the clearing. The packed dirt was hard enough here to support slender heels. Hermione, Harry and Ginny dismounted and set about making a large bonfire as Snape, Susan and Ron continued socializing as animals, Ron yanking Snape's tail and running into the trees, pursued by the gryffin as the elk watched, making noises of mirth.

Hermione sat on a boulder, watching them and feeling left out as Harry and Ginny joined her, watching them too.

"I bet that's how it was with my father and his friends," Harry said softly as Susan and Snape playfully circled each other. "I bet they played together, too."

"I just want to know how long it took Susan to find her form. Has she been studying all along?" Hermione asked Harry, who shrugged.

"Ron hasn't said anything about it," Harry replied.

"He's changed," Ginny said. "He used to blabber about everything to Harry. He doesn't do that anymore."

"Well, some things," Harry added, turning a little green. Ron still liked to give intimate details about him and Susan to Harry. He didn't do it with anyone else though. Harry was his best mate.

"I think it's because of the NEWTs. He's been working very hard on it, Hermione. He has almost a foot high stack of research. I've seen it, but he won't let me look at anything he's written," Ginny said, then cried "Ooh!" as Snape caught orangutan Ron by the shoulders, flew with the screaming ape over the trees and dropped him into the topmost branches.

A lot of crashing sounds and ape cries followed.

"Oh, that had to hurt!" Harry said, scrunching up his face in sympathy as Hermione's mouth dropped open. After a minute or two, Ron ran out of the trees and started throwing something at Snape, who flapped and dodged above him, screeching in outrage.

"I don't think that's mud," Harry said as Susan trotted away a distance, snuffling loudly as if something unpleasant was caught in her nose. A big glop hit Snape in the center of his snow white feathered chest.

"Ew!" both Hermione and Ginny hissed as gryffin Snape dove at orangutan Ron, who ran back into the trees, screeching laughter. Snape landed in the clearing, turned into human form and ran into the woods after Ron with his wand drawn.

"Oh, that's not good," Harry said as a flash of light shot through the trees, followed closely by a apish shriek of pain, then Ron yelling "Oi! You bastard! You set my arse hair on fire!"

"You hit me with dung, you gorilla!" was Snape's snarled reply. Then the flashes started again. Obviously, they were dueling. Susan trotted up to the witches and wizard, then transformed back to human form and sat down on the boulder next to Hermione.

"I'm not getting involved in that," she said, shaking her head as hexes were shouted and light flew back and forth. Then, there was the sound of grappling and Snape and Ron rolled out of the forest, brawling.

"Oh, good gravy!" Hermione exclaimed, hopping off the boulder and hurrying over to the wrestling wizards. She pointed her wand at them. Ron had Snape in a chokehold, and Snape reached over his shoulder and hit him in the eye with an upraised knuckle.

"Ow!" Ron cried as Snape twisted around, loosening his grip. Suddenly they were both deluged by freezing water.

"Hey!" they both yelled, breaking apart and seeing Hermione standing there, water dripping from the tip of her wand.

"That's enough, you two. Really. Haven't you had enough dueling for one night?" she chided them.

"Snape started it. He shouldn't have dropped me into the trees. That hurt!" Ron complained, pulling out his wand and drying himself.

"You pulled my tail," Snape countered as he dried and Scourgified his robes. "Did you think that felt good? Then you threw ape shit at me."

"Sorry about that, mate. A natural response," Ron said with a grin.

Hermione shook her head as Snape snorted.

"Well, enough of that. Come over by the fire," she ordered, walking back toward the fire.

Ron and Snape glared at each other for a moment, then broke into grins and followed Hermione over to the bonfire. Harry, Ginny and Susan were smiling at them.

"That was entertaining," Ginny said to them. "You've got pretty good aim as an ape, Ron, disgusting as it is. Did you Scourgify your hands?"

"Of course I did. Shut up, Ginny. Merlin," Ron said bad-naturedly as he sat down next to Susan.

Snape sat down next to Hermione, looked around at his companions, then stared into the bonfire quietly.

"We should have brought some Butterbeers and snacks," Ron said as his stomach growled.

"Ron, you can't possibly be hungry after all the food you ate at the party," Hermione told him.

"He's bottomless, Hermione," Susan said, pulling out her wand and pointing it skyward.

"Accio cornucopia!" she cried, then lowered her wand.

Everyone looked at her.

"You have a cornucopia?" Ginny asked, impressed.

"Yes. I usually use it to get ingredients I need to cook with when they aren't available at Hogwarts. But I can get other things, too. My parents foot the bill for supplies although I usually only use it when I have to," she replied. "But I'm sure they won't mind this."

"You have a cornucopia and you didn't tell me?" Ron asked her in disbelief.

"I'm not trying to bankrupt my family, Ron," she replied. "So, just pretend I DON'T have one, all right?"

"Bankrupt your family? What do you mean by that?" he demanded, incensed.

"She means you'll eat her out of house and home, Weasley," Snape answered. "You're a glutton. You'd probably eat yourself to death if you got hold of something like that."

"I am not a glutton!" Ron said defensively. "I just have a high metabolism."

"If I weren't familiar with you, I'd suspect you were a crossbreed," Snape continued. "Most likely of the order of Soricomorpha, and the family Soricidae."

Ron, Harry and Ginny looked bewildered at the reference, but Susan and Hermione laughed.

"What's so funny?" Ron demanded.

"He's referring to the shrew family, Ron," Hermione chuckled.

"A shrew? I don't see anything funny about that."

Susan composed herself.

"Shrews have very high metabolisms too, Ron. Some have to eat three times their weight a day in order to survive," she informed him.

Now Harry and Ginny chuckled too. Snape looked at Ron with mirth in his eyes.

"Well, I used to think you were part bat, the way you hunkered down in the dungeons and swooped around the castle," Ron retorted, "The order of Black-winged Prats, of the family of Great Big Gits."

Snape chuckled. Ron could give as good as he got, even if he wasn't as academically smart as he was. Everyone else laughed too. Suddenly, the cornucopia flew into the clearing, landing at Susan's feet. She picked it up.

"Time for a bit of nosh," she said with a smile.

* * *

"Come down to my quarters," Snape breathed at Hermione passionately. They were in a tapestry-covered niche near Gryffindor tower, Hermione pressed against the wall as Snape hungrily snogged her, pressing into her body in an unmistakable manner.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Susan had all departed once they returned to the castle, everyone giving each other space in case they wanted private time. Hermione wouldn't go back to Snape's quarters and he walked her to Gryffindor tower. Well, almost to Gryffindor tower. He pulled her into the niche as soon as it came up. He and Lily used to talk here sometimes. Now, it served another purpose as he attempted to seduce Hermione.

"No, Severus. We've done it two days in a row. We need to take a break," Hermione said softly, nearly breathless from his ardor.

"I don't need a break, I need you, Hermione," he replied, kissing her again, running his hand under her dress and up her thigh, leaving a trail of heat.

"No," she said weakly. I need to go, Severus. I didn't sleep in my own bed last night. I got away with it once, but I can't take chances. We have to follow protocol—"

"Let me do you here, then, Hermione—against the wall. I'd be good—so good. I'm so hard for you. Just turn around and I'll take care of the rest," he purred, pressing his erection into her belly.

Hermione was turned on, but she managed to keep her head rather than give in.

"No," she said firmly. "I won't Severus. We have to exercise some control," she told him, gently pushing him off her body.

Snape stared at her, then sighed.

"All right. But if my nads turn blue, it's going to be your fault."

"I happen to like the color blue."

Snape caught her by the arm a little roughly and walked her out from behind the tapestry after peeking out first to make sure no one was around. They stopped in front of the Fat Lady, who had seen them come from behind the tapestry.

"It's late, Miss Granger," she said primly. There was a little disapproval in her voice.

"I know," Hermione replied as Snape glared at the painting. It was getting a bit nosey now. "I'm going in soon."

The painting's eyes shifted from Hermione to Snape, then back to Hermione.

"Come to think of it, I don't remember you returning last night," the Fat Lady said with narrowed eyes. "I keep a count of the students' comings and goings. No, I distinctly—"

"Obliviate!"

Hermione gasped as Snape hit the painting with the memory loss spell.

"Oh, Severus. You shouldn't have done that!" she said to the frowning wizard.

"You're nineteen. She doesn't have to keep tabs on you," he said angrily. "Or give you the third degree. She's just a portrait, Hermione. You deserve some privacy. I wasn't about to stand here and listen to you trying to explain yourself to some colors on a canvas."

Hermione looked at him and sighed. Severus was only trying to protect her. He was so—caring.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He nodded, then lifted her hand and kissed it.

"Good night, Hermione," the wizard said as she drew her hand back into her breast, loving his gallantry. It was old fashioned, but somehow seemed perfect.

"Good night, Severus," Hermione replied then said the password. The Fat Lady swung back, a dazed look on her painted face. Snape watched the portrait swing back, then glared at the painting.

It blinked at him, still confused.

"Where did you come from?" it asked him.

"Nowhere," Snape replied, turning and walking down the corridor.

Blasted portrait.

* * *

A/N: Lol, another chapter that took an unexpected twist. Orangutans are well-known for poop-throwing. I just had to write about that. Lolol. Snape and Ron seem to have a kind of caustic friendship. I know people who like each other but constantly bicker for the hell of it. I think that's Snape and Ron. Anyway, thanks for reading. ***


	75. Repercussions

**Chapter 74 ~ Repercussions**

The next morning in the Great Hall, Snape, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were enjoying their breakfasts together. Susan and Ron were eating their breakfast down by the lake so they could be together without complications. If they stayed inside, they'd have to sit at separate tables.

"Slughorn doesn't look the least bit angry," Hermione observed as the wizard smiled at them.

"I don't think that's good," Ginny responded, frowning. "We destroyed his party. He should be furious."

"Knowing Slughorn, he probably turned it around to his advantage somehow," Snape said quietly.

Harry didn't say anything, but he found it disconcerting there didn't appear to be any repercussions for what they did.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them and they all looked up to see a very tight-lipped Minerva McGonagall standing over them, her beady eyes glittering.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape, Miss Weasley and Miss Granger, I expect to see you all in my office immediately after breakfast," she said in a low voice. Then she turned and stalked back up to the dais.

"Uh, oh," Ginny breathed.

Almost as one, the group slowed down eating, making breakfast last as long as humanly possible.

From his seat, Filch shook his head.

"I knew they'd get that boy in trouble," he muttered over his porridge.

* * *

Harry, Ron, Snape, Ginny, Susan and Hermione stood in front of the huge ornate desk in the headmistress' office as if waiting for the order to shoot to be given to a firing squad.

Minerva was seated behind the desk, red-faced and looking at them furiously. She was so angry, she couldn't speak. But that didn't last long.

"Starting a brawl at Professor Slughorn's party? How could you?" she demanded.

Everyone blinked but no one said a word.

"I don't approve of Horace's parties, but he was given permission to hold them here as part of his contract, and it was approved by the Board of Governors. But be that as it may, I expect any students that attend his functions to conduct themselves properly. You have no idea how upset I was to discover that students from MY house caused an all out wizarding duel!"

"But, headmistress, everyone was attacking Severus!" Ron blurted out. "They had him surrounded and were jeering him and calling him names and he couldn't get away! What were we supposed to do? Let them treat him like that?"

This information seemed to catch Minerva by surprise. She blinked and asked Severus in a low voice, "Is this true, Severus? Were you surrounded?"

Snape nodded slightly.

Minerva's lower lip began to tremble as she looked at her charges. They had stood up for Severus? Dear Merlin.

Minerva turned and looked at Albus' empty picture frame, trying to compose herself as tears threatened to fill her eyes. She harrumphed a couple of times. Everyone looked at each other bewildered as they stared at her back. Presently, Minerva turned back around, her face pink.

"Well, be that as it may, you still caused a brawl in front of some very distinguished people. Professor Slughorn asked that you not be punished for the outbreak, but in my opinion, you all deserve punishment and so, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Miss Bones and Miss Granger, you will all serve two weeks detention doing various duties around the castle. They will be assigned."

Harry and Ron groaned, but the girls all took it stoically. Minerva's black eyes shifted to Severus.

"It's unfortunate that you had to go through that, Severus. I do empathize, but have it on good authority you were casting hexes along with the rest of them. Since you are a ward and not a student, I have no choice but to issue your second verbal warning. You have one left, and one write-up before you will be expelled from Hogwarts," she said to Snape, "so I expect you to keep your nose clean for the rest of term."

Ron helplessly snickered at this statement. Snape's nose was so big, he probably couldn't help some dirt and dust getting sucked up in there. Minerva and Hermione scowled at him and his expression turned sober although his blue eyes were full of mirth. Snape's lip quirked as well at his little outburst. Ron was something else. A real free spirit.

"Now, out of my office, all of you," Minerva ordered.

Harry, Ron, Susan, Ginny and Hermione all turned to leave, but Snape didn't budge. Hermione noticed immediately.

"Come on, Severus," she said softly as Minerva looked at him.

"No. I need to talk to the headmistress privately," he told her, then looked at Minerva. "That's all right, isn't it?"

Minerva nodded, and Hermione reluctantly left the office, following the others down the stairs.

"I wonder what Severus wanted to talk to McGonagall about," Harry mused as they emerged in the corridor.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "but I'm going to wait here and find out."

* * *

Minerva sat down behind her desk and gestured for Snape to take a seat in the armchair in front of it, which he did.

"Now, what did you want to talk to me about, Severus?" she asked him curiously.

Snape blinked at her a couple of times then said, "I don't think it's fair that they received detention and I didn't. I was just as much at fault as they were, headmistress."

"Yes, you were, Severus. But you are not a student of Hogwarts. Only students can be assigned detention. The rules concerning you are different."

"But they were defending me. They wouldn't have gotten in trouble if they weren't trying to help me. Protect me."

Minerva gave him a soft smile.

"Yes, that's true, Severus. But each of them knew there would most likely be repercussions. They knew they would be punished."

Snape looked at her, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Still, I'd like to serve detention as well. It's only right."

Minerva shook her head.

"I'm sorry Severus. I can't assign it to you. However, you could volunteer to assist them on your own, if that would make you feel better about it," she told him.

"I'd like that," he said shortly.

Minerva studied him, a sad smile on her face.

"You have friends, Severus. Good friends. Friends willing to make sacrifices for you. It appears that you're just as willing to make sacrifices for them as well."

"It's only fair," Snape said tightly, frowning a little.

Minerva cocked her head at him.

"Fair? Most Slytherins would be pleased as pumpkin juice to have avoided detention," she said.

"Maybe—maybe I'm not like most Slytherins," he responded, standing up. "Goodbye, headmistress."

"Goodbye, Severus," Minerva answered and watched as he exited the office.

The moment the door closed, Albus' portrait reappeared in the painting behind her desk. It had discreetly ducked out the moment it heard Severus was being summoned. No need tempting the wizard.

"I remember thinking that sometimes we Sorted too soon," it said to Minerva, who turned in her chair to look at it.

"But now," the portrait said, its blue eyes bright, "I'm sure of it."

Minerva wasn't sure she agreed with the portrait. Yes, Snape was showing a sense of fairness and loyalty, but only to those who were showing him the same fairness and loyalty. It was a simple case of tit for tat, which was definitely a Slytherin trait. The only thing different about Snape now as compared to his first time at Hogwarts, was that he had friends. Those Slytherin tendencies of resourcefulness and cunning still remained, she was certain of that.

Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.

* * *

When Severus exited the stairwell, he was met by Hermione and the rest of his friends, who looked at him anxiously.

"What happened, Severus?" Hermione asked as the others gathered around him.

"I want you all to let me know what assignments you get for your detentions," Snape said.

"Why?" Ginny asked him, her brow furrowed as Snape started walking. They all kept up.

"Because, I'm going to help you," he said shortly.

"But, you don't have to do detention," Ron said. "That's great."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

Susan didn't say anything and neither did Hermione.

Snape didn't answer them concerning how great it was, because he didn't think it was great at all that they had been punished for helping him while he only received a verbal reprimand..

"Just let me know what assignments you get," he reiterated.

Harry and Ron shrugged at each other.

"All right," they both agreed.

They walked in silence a bit, then Hermione said, "I've got to go. I have tutoring to do."

She looked at Snape to see if he wanted to accompany her, but all he said was, "I'll see you all at lunch."

Then he sped up, leaving them.

"What do you suppose all that's about? He's totally in the clear," Ron said, blinking after him.

"He doesn't think it's fair we got detention and he didn't," Susan said quietly. "He wants to do his part and support us now. It's nice, really."

Ron snorted.

"I'd be happy with just a verbal reprimand," he said as Hermione scowled at him.

"You're so thick, Ron," she said witheringly. "A real friend wouldn't want to see his friends punished while he wasn't."

"I am a real friend! And I think real friends would be happy to see someone get out of it," he retorted. "Not everyone has to go down with the broomstick."

"Thick!" Hermione hissed at him, walking faster and leaving them behind. She needed to get to her students.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked Harry, Ginny and Susan, who all just shook their heads.

Ron was a good sort, but sometimes he missed things completely.

"Forget it, Ron," Ginny said tightly.

Susan caught hold of his arm and gave him a soft smile.

"I'll explain it to you later, Ron," she told him.

"Thanks, Susan," he replied, then his stomach growled.

"Have any cooking to do today?" he asked her hopefully.

"I'm sure I can whip something up."

* * *

Snape made his way down the dungeon corridor toward his office. He slowed as he distinctly smelled candied pineapples. There was only one person at Hogwarts who smelled like that. Snape frowned as Professor Slughorn stepped out of a niche with a broad smile.

"I hope I didn't startle you, my boy," he said to Severus brightly, only to be greeted by a rather sullen, "You didn't."

Snape walked right around him, heading for his quarters. Slughorn followed, a newspaper tucked under his pudgy arm.

"I hope Minerva didn't lower the boom on you and your friends too hard. I tried my best to persuade her not to punish you, but she had other ideas. Most of my guests enjoyed themselves greatly last night, but there's always one or two complainers in the bunch. That's how you were found out."

Snape didn't say anything as he stopped in front of his office. Slughorn pulled out the newspaper and showed Snape the front page. In the lower right corner was a little article with the headline,

"Horace Slughorn's Party a Wizarding Sensation!"

"I was a smash," the wizard said delightedly. "Already I've been deluged with requests for invitations to my next party by some of the most influential people in the wizarding world, people I couldn't get to attend before last night. It's simply marvelous. I wonder if you might attend—"

"No," Snape stated flatly.

"Severus, I promise you that you won't be beset upon like—"

"No. I won't be coming to any more of your parties, and that's final," Snape said angrily.

Slughorn's face fell.

"Perhaps I could provide you with some form of recompense—"

"No. Nothing you have could make me attend another party. I only came to that one because of the Gobbarts you loaned me. I don't need anything else from you."

Slughorn sighed.

"A lot of people were impressed by your form," the professor said, "powerful people."

"No."

Slughorn looked at Snape with disappointment.

"I had hoped that you would be willing to make important contacts, Severus. Contacts are very important to success."

"I'll get successful on my own," Snape told him, pulling out his wand and unwarding his door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, professor."

"Certainly," Slughorn said heavily, then watched as Snape entered his office and firmly closed the door behind him.

"He's no more sociable than when he first attended Hogwarts. I thought it might be different for him this time around. He's still going to be the odd man out. What a pity. He has so much potential. With the right advisor he could really go places. A shame really. At this rate, he'll never amount to anything," Slughorn muttered to himself as he walked up the corridor, wallowing in his own version of "sour grapes."

He was right. Severus Snape did have a lot of potential. Fortunately, the young wizard was aware of this himself, and didn't need anyone to "guide him along."

He'd be just fine.

* * *

A/N: Of course, they couldn't just get away with disrupting the party. There had to be some repercussions. I think this is a nice way to end this part of the story and move into transitional chapters. Thanks for reading. ***


	76. Moving On

**Chapter 75 ~ Moving On**

Draco collapsed panting on top of Pansy, taking her down to the mattress and resting on her back with a tired smile, his cheek resting against hers as they spiraled back to reality.

"I swear, Pansy, if you could bottle that, you'd make a fortune," he breathed to the witch, who smiled, her black hair damp against her temple.

"You always say that, Draco," she responded as he slid off of her, lying beside her as she turned to face him. He was a gorgeous wizard, especially wet and naked.

"That's because I mean it," he replied. "Whew, I'm hot."

"You'll get no argument from me about that, Draco," Pansy replied, and he smiled at her.

Draco and Pansy were shag buddies and had been since their fifth year. Draco wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend. It was his father's rule. He could have dalliances of course, but Lucius felt he was far too young for a serious relationship and that there'd be time to be a relatively one-witch wizard when he was old enough to marry. He was expected to play the field until then, and even afterward, have a mistress or two on the side.

It was the Malfoy way.

Draco did have the occasional dalliance, but it was Pansy that he gravitated to mostly. She had always adored him and supported him, even in his darkest days when he was ordered to perform a task of Voldemort and he was torn. It was Pansy who stood by him, even though she didn't know what he had to do, but she was a port in the storm for him.

Pansy was still a bigot, and still disliked Harry Potter and the rest of the Gryffindors, but her Draco could do little wrong. However, she was shrewd enough to see that their relationship wouldn't go much further. His father didn't approve of her. She wasn't pretty enough or connected enough to be a suitable wife for his son. She overhead Lucius speaking about her in unflattering terms at the last Christmas ball and Draco, although he looked sullen, didn't say anything to defend her except she was his friend.

"Keep her that way," Lucius had told him.

Pansy wasn't that pretty. She had a rather hard look about her, and Harry described her as being pug-faced. Draco had had prettier witches, but Pansy cared about him to the point where she'd stand by his side and fight with him against anyone. And he could talk to her about almost anything and she'd listen quietly and not ask intrusive questions, and comfort him when he needed it, whether it was just an arm around his shoulder or an all out shag. Whatever he needed, she was there for him, willing to provide it.

He'd become used to her, so didn't take it well when she said what she did as she lay next to him, cooling off.

"Um, Draco. I've been thinking about something," she said softly.

"Hmm?" he responded, his eyes closed.

"Jordan Cromwell asked me out," she continued.

This didn't bother Draco. Pansy got asked out quite a bit, because everyone knew she was sexually active. She always said no, however, because of him.

"The Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. I think he really likes me, Draco," she told him.

Draco smiled.

"Any wizard would like you between the sheets, Pansy," he said with a purr in his voice.

"I think it's more than that, this time. He's really nice. He even understands about you and me," she told the pureblood.

Draco opened his gray eyes and turned them on her.

"Understands?" he repeated, frowning slightly.

"Yes, he really does. But he says that there's not going to be a future with you and I should consider other options, like him. He's quite handsome and very smart."

"So, why does he want you then?" Draco said bad-naturedly.

Pansy let his cruel comment slip, and replied, "He has a thing for bad girls. He said he remembered when I suggested turning Harry over to Voldemort at the final battle and he said he believed that would have been the most logical thing to do. He said I'd shown great courage standing up to everyone like that, even though I knew the suggestion would be unpopular."

Draco snorted.

"So, are you considering going out with him? Or just seeing him? I don't have a problem with you seeing him. I see other witches," Draco said to her.

"Well, Jordan doesn't do 'seeing,' Draco. He wants me to go out with him, exclusively," she said apologetically.

"Has he shagged you yet?"

"No, of course not."

Draco brooded.

"I don't like the idea. Where would that leave me?" Draco asked her, pouting.

"We'd still be friends. We'd still talk and I'd be here for you. We just wouldn't shag. We don't do a lot of shagging anyway, Draco."

"But I like to know that I can shag you when I want."

"I think that's going to change. I really like Jordan and I think I can have something nice with him. Come on, Draco. You know after we graduate, this is going to be over anyway. I just don't want to be by myself. I want a wizard of my own who is completely mine. You'll never be that."

Draco lay there, feeling miserable now. He didn't actually love Pansy but she was—more than just his friend. The idea of someone else having her affection exclusively didn't sit well with him. He was selfish, plain and simple.

"I don't see why you want to rush into something like that. You have your whole life to fall in love, Pansy."

"I'm not rushing. I've been thinking about it a lot, Draco. What we have is nice, but it's not going anywhere."

"You know, a couple of years ago, you wouldn't have been interested in anyone other than me. The idea of not being with me would have devastated you," he told her.

She smiled.

"Yeah, but I've grown up since then, Draco. I'm not as needy and as gorgeous and well-off as you are, there are plenty other wizards out here who don't have their father telling them what to do and—who to do."

Draco watched as Pansy sat up and slid to the end of the bed, grabbing her wand off his nightstand and Scourgifying herself. She stood up and slipped on her bra, knickers and then her robes, stepping into her slippers and turning to look at him.

He really was gorgeous lying there nude, his gray eyes resting on her soberly. She looked as if she were memorizing him as her eyes drifted up and down his body.

"This was our last shag, Draco," she told him softly. "I'm going to tell Jordan, yes. And I'm going to mean it."

She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"You're going to find a witch acceptable to your father, marry her and continue your line, Draco, like a dutiful son. There's nothing wrong with that. But I have to look out for myself, you know? I'll see you later."

With that, Pansy exited his private room and Draco scowled after her.

"Jordan Cromwell," he muttered, slipping his arms behind his head. "Bloody hell."

Actually, it was probably a good thing that Pansy made this change in their relationship, because Draco had been considering asking her to accompany him to Boleskin House. That would have been an utter disaster.

As understanding as Pansy was toward him, it was in direct opposition to how she felt about Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was still a Mudblood and Ron a Blood Traitor as far as she was concerned. She never forgave Harry for using the Sectumsempra spell on Draco in his sixth year either.

In fact, Pansy was known for her sharp tongue, snide remarks and tormenting others at every possible occasion, especially Gryffindors. Although her verbal attacks had toned down since the defeat of Voldemort, she still retained a deep dislike for those of that house and probably would do so for the rest of her days.

She talked about Snape constantly, although her comments never made it back to him. She couldn't understand how he ended up friends with the Gryffindors until it became common knowledge that he and Hermione were an item.

"Ew. Granger's disgusting. How can she shag her former professor?" Pansy asked Draco, looking as if she were about to puke. "And how can he stand being around them? I know he's lost his memories, but he's still a Slytherin. He must be whipped by Granger. That's the only explanation. Ew."

If Draco had brought Pansy along, no doubt Snape would have blasted her three ways from Sunday if she started in on him, and more than likely, it would have started an all out duel between all of them.

So, as sad as the situation was for Draco, it was much better this way.

He could always bring Blaise.

* * *

Snape did show up to help his friends with their detentions, and was actually quite helpful because while they couldn't use magic, he could. So the cleaning of the Thestral stables, the turning of soil in the gardens, the trimming of trees and cutting grass was not as much work when Severus was around. Of course, he helped Hermione most so everyone tried to get assigned with her, but it wasn't always possible. But Snape did what he could and spread his time around. There were some evenings Harry, Ron, Ginny and Susan had to fend for themselves, but not that many. They were grateful to him.

The weeks passed quickly, Hermione having all of her NEWT presentations neatly bound and ready for presentation. She and Snape worked on brewing together, the wizard giving her a few neat little tricks he'd learned along the way to help improve her techniques. They also practiced their spell work, but had no more duels.

Snape nearly destroyed his Hell's Guardian when it tried to swallow Hermione whole, acting as if it were dormant when she cast a cooling spell on it to add to her own Herbology knowledge, then pouncing when she came close to examine it. The plant was a horrendous sixteen feet tall now, and quite intelligent for a plant species. Unlike most plants, which simply responded to their environment, the Hell's Guardian manipulated its surroundings as much as possible to insure a good meal. It almost got Neville, too, luring him into its proximity one evening by exuding a sweet smell similar to that of freshly baked Treacle tarts. Neville only escaped because he had good dodging reflexes and jumped back when it went for him.

Good thing it wasn't Ron in the Herbology center when the plant issued the delicious scent. They'd still be looking for him.

With Ron's help, Susan developed several wonderful magical foods to present for her NEWTS, excluding her Oysters Rockefeller recipe. Showing successful results could be quite—er—sticky.

The most interesting creation was her diet cookies. Ron called them her "Anorexia Cookies" because if a person ate one, they were no longer hungry. A person could literally waste away on a bag of them and Ron hated the whole concept, especially when Susan started using them herself.

"Susan, you're going to lose your boobs and bum!" Ron exclaimed, snatching the bag from her. "On women, those are the first things to go!"

Ron knew this little detail because over the years Molly had dieted off and on, and his dad sabotaged her attempts to slim down every chance he got, simply because he loved her rounded.

Ron and Susan had a row about the cookies, one that ended up with them shagging madly, Ron determined to prove that he loved her as is and didn't want her to lose even an ounce of her delicious, ample body.

Greatly convinced, Susan left the cookies alone.

Ron had compiled quite a bit of compelling information about the Animagi transformation and formulated a decent theory concerning intent and the release of passionate emotions as a catalyst rather than time. He not only used his experience for proof, but Susan as well although it was hard going describing how she found her form, since it had happened during a sexual encounter. Luckily for both of them, it had happened while Ron was changing positions so he wasn't actually shagging her at the moment.

But, the bed broke.

He also did quite a bit of research on the Marauders, setting forth the premise that it was their desire rather than years of attempts that allowed them to find their forms so quickly. All in all, it was quite a ground-breaking piece of work, strengthened by the fact that both he and Susan were Animagi. Ron did lose some points for his enormous orangutan nads, however, although his ability to suck them in to form a cavity restored them adequately. The witch who was giving the examination turned quite red at the display, or . . . lack of it.

The NEWTs also consisted of difficult written examinations, but thanks to Hermione's diligence and whip cracking, her friends and tutoring pupils were well prepared. She had managed to get hold of several old examinations and used them for practice. So, when everyone was seated, they didn't find the tests daunting at all.

When Hermione presented Snape at the presentation segment of the Transfiguration NEWTs, and provided the thick, written information compiled, as well as a Pensieve of him learning to fly and hunting, the examiners were very impressed. Snape was the first mythological Animagi ever recorded.

Snape's Hell's Guardian plant was the highlight of the Herbology NEWTs. Just the size along guaranteed him an Outstanding. But what was amazing was the amount of intelligence it showed, and the plant was taken by the Ministry for further study and a sample of the growth potion, another feather in the wizard's academic cap. Since Snape had it patented, he was going to make quite a bit of money off its use by the Ministry, and Lucius wouldn't get a dime of the residuals.

Hermione garnered Outstandings in all of her NEWT topics, something that hadn't been done in more than fifty years. It made her the most brilliant witch Hogwarts ever produced. It was satisfying to the witch, but mostly—she felt relieved. Snape was quite proud of her.

"I'm shagging the smartest witch in the wizarding world," he said to her with a smile. "Not too bad at all."

Snape also received straight Outstandings for his four NEWTs, and he was pleased with that.

Ron made an Outstanding in his Transfiguration NEWTS, and Exceeded Expectations in his other subjects. Not a bad showing at all. Susan did well, too, as did Harry, who got two Outstandings and two Exceeds Expectations.

Now, the friends were in Snape's quarters, packing up all of his books, which was quite the job since they couldn't be reduced in size. Boxes upon boxes were stacked and they could barely move through the small aisles they'd created. What made it worse was Hermione insisted they be sorted according to subject and in alphabetical order by author. This slowed everything down considerably. Ron was buried in tomes when he attempted a mass migration from shelves to boxes and they had to dig him out.

"Having this many books is obscene!" he complained once he was free.

"Knowledge is a heavy pursuit, Weasley," Snape said with a smirk.

Finally, they got them packed away, and Lucius sent over a number of house elves to transport them to Boleskin House. But the little creatures wouldn't enter the house itself and no amount of threatening or punishment would make them enter the doors. They were rented elves, so Lucius couldn't punish them.

With graduation over, it was now time to set out on the next leg of their journey. Harry was on his own basically, so could do as he wished and didn't have any problems going to Boleskin House. Hermione sat down with her parents and explained that she was going to take off a year or two to find out what field she wanted to pursue and would be working with potions at Boleskine House under the patronage of Lucius Malfoy. She made it sound as clinical as possible. Since Hermione had always been the independent sort, her parents didn't object. She had made amazing marks at Hogwarts and it made sense she'd want to take time to decide what she wanted to do, and she couldn't do that in the Muggle world, so they gave her their blessing. They had heard about Boleskine House, but since they weren't magical people, and didn't much believe in demons, they didn't give much credence to the claim it was an evil place.

"It's just an old house that was occupied by a strange man," Hermione's mother said. "Really, what people won't say to stir up excitement."

Getting permission for Susan to come was a bit more complicated. Everyone went to her home to meet her parents, who were quite stunned to see Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley in her group of friends. Snape was a strange addition as well. But, how could they say no when she would be in such illustrious company? When they found out she and Ron were an item, they were absolutely delighted. They had worried about her a bit socially, but it was clear their daughter was moving in marvelous circles.

Ron was the only one who had to fight to go to Boleskine. Despite him being the age of consent and having graduated, Molly didn't want him going to a place with such a bad reputation to battle demons.

"Mum, you can't stop me," Ron told her. "Anyway, Harry, Hermione and Snape will be there, too. They can handle almost anything."

"Ron, you're talking about demons. Demons steal souls. Do you want to be dragged down into Hades, or wherever they go?"

"Mum, I've been in a war. I can handle a few demons."

"No! Absolutely not!"

Molly tried to pull Arthur into it on her side, but all he said was, "Molly, he doesn't have to ask our permission. He's a man now."

Molly had burst into tears and fled into their bedroom, Ron looking after her miserably before looking at his father.

"Why doesn't she ever make anything easy?" he asked his dad, who shook his head.

"That's just Molly, son. She loves you and doesn't want anything to happen to you," he told him. "But, you go ahead to Boleskine House and be careful. I'll take care of your mum."

So, Ron packed up his things, picked up Susan and met his friends at King's Cross station. Draco was there as well, a small carry-all bag in his hand, and determined look on his face. They greeted each other.

"So, we're ready?" Snape asked as the train pulled in.

"No, not yet," Draco said. "Blaise isn't here yet."

"Blaise?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"Yeah. He's going to help," Draco explained.

Hermione looked at Snape with narrowed eyes.

"Blaise?"

Snape looked at Draco steadily, then turned his black eyes on Hermione.

"Draco asked if he could bring a companion. I said yes, since we are all paired off. I had no idea he'd bring Blaise. I thought—I thought he'd bring a witch," Snape said, looking back at Draco, who reddened.

"I was going to bring Pansy," he began. Everyone except Snape looked at him with horror.

"Pansy? She'd be worse than any demon in the place," Ron said, frowning blackly.

"But, the situation changed, so I decided to bring Blaise. He's good, as you all know."

"Good and dirty," Ginny muttered. "Severus, you aren't really going to let him come are you?"

Just as Snape was about to answer, Blaise appeared, his brown eyes cool as he took them all in. He looked at Draco.

"I'm here," he said shortly. He had a carry-all bag as well.

There was a pregnant silence as everyone looked from Blaise to Snape.

"Blaise, I didn't know you were coming," Snape said to him, "but I need you to understand that we are going to Boleskine House to set it up for my lodging and my experiments. We may encounter Dark forces and have to clear them out. We aren't going there to engage each other. There will be no dueling."

Blaise frowned at Snape.

"I know that," he said flatly. "I'm only coming because Draco asked me and I'd like to face off with a few demons summoned by a Muggle sorcerer. I hear they're different then the magical demons we normally encounter. Besides, I've already dueled this bunch."

Blaise didn't say it, but he gave off a vibe of disdain as if dueling them again would be beneath him.

"Very well. As long as you understand, you are welcome," Snape told him as Hermione stared at him in disbelief. He needed to send Blaise packing.

"Let's go," Snape said, picking up his bag and catching hold of Hermione's arm. They walked silently toward the train.

The tension was palpable.

* * *

A/N: A transitional chapter. I know a lot of you would have liked a more detailed breakdown of the NEWTs but I felt I needed to move the story along. At 75 chapters, it's pretty long and I never meant it to be so long. I added a little Draco/Pansy just because it popped into my head this morning. Draco's so yummy. Lol. And I've never really written Pansy before. It wasn't much characterization but I touched on her a little. Now, they're on their way to Boleskine House. I have so much research to do. Sigh. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway. Thanks for reading.


	77. On the Way to Boleskine House

**Chapter 76 ~ On the Way to Boleskine House**

Draco and Blaise sat in a separate compartment because all of them in one was a bit crowded. No one had a problem with that, although Blaise's presence was a matter of concern.

"You should have told Blaise he couldn't come, Severus," Hermione said to him.

Snape stared out of the window at the passing scenery, ignoring her, which made her pinch him.

"Ow!" he hissed, looking at her reproachfully.

"I'm talking to you," Hermione snapped.

"And pinching me," Snape added, frowning at her.

"Why didn't you tell Blaise to leave?"

"Because he may be of help, Hermione, that's why."

"But after what he did in the RoR—what he did to me—"

Snape sighed.

"I don't like what he did, but we were in a dueling situation, Hermione. I hit him in the nose and Ginny removed his hair. You bested him in the end one on one. What more do you want?" Snape asked her.

Hermione blinked at him. It was true. She had bested Blaise.

"Look, Hermione, he's here. I'll keep a close eye on him, all right?" Snape told her.

"All right, but I don't like it."

"Duly noted."

Ginny was seated next to Hermione and Snape, and Harry was seated next to Ron and Susan. They had listened to Snape and Hermione argue without comment, but now, Ron narrowed his eyes at his sister.

"Oi, Ginny. I just thought about something. How did you get to come on this trip? Mum had conniptions when I asked her. I didn't hear anything about you—"

Ginny smirked at him.

"Well, I waited until you asked first, then when Mum was upset, I went to her and told her I'd go along to keep an eye on you, and she agreed," Ginny said with a smile as Ron looked outraged.

"What? She sent my little sister along to keep an eye on me? Bollocks!"

Ginny shrugged.

"I guess I'm the sensible one," she responded.

"Oh, that's just—I can't believe—what was Mum think—oh, the hell with it!" Ron spluttered as everyone grinned at him. Susan rested her hand on his arm sympathetically although she was smiling.

"Ron, Ginny just took advantage of the situation," she said to him softly. "You have to admit it was pretty smart."

"Pretty embarrassing," Ron muttered.

Susan kissed him on the cheek, then reached into her pocket and drew out a pumpkin pasty and offered it to him. He took it sullenly, unwrapped it and took a bite, frowning as he chewed.

"Thanks," he said around the pasty.

Hermione cleared her throat in that way she did when she had some knowledge to impart. Everyone looked at her as she reached into her knapsack and pulled out a large book. Ron groaned a little and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then opened the book.

"This book tells about Boleskine House and Aleister Crowley, the Muggle sorcerer who had purchased it.

"Is there really such a thing as a Muggle sorcerer?" Susan asked.

Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Yes, apparently there is. Becoming one is a very dangerous pursuit, because since Muggles don't have magic of their own, they have to use the power of other things to do what they want. Some of them use the powers of nature. Air, Earth, Fire and Water. To do this, they have to bind elemental spirits to their wills and make them perform for them. It's actually enslavement and that's what makes it dangerous. Elementals don't like being enslaved. There are some methods of Muggle magic where Muggles actually work with elementals, and this is far safer because there is choice involved. But mostly Wiccans do that. Sorcerers are a completely different story. They're all about power."

Everyone listened enthralled as Hermione continued.

"Sorcerers are different. They don't just use nature. They often use other things, rituals that involve spilling blood, bodily secretions, body parts and taking lives."

"Well, we use body parts in Potions," Ron interjected.

"That's completely different, Ron, believe me. We don't sacrifice the creatures we use—"  
"That's a matter of opinion," Snape said suddenly. "When fresh ingredients are used, we do kill creatures to harvest the parts needed."

"But we don't invoke anything," Hermione argued. "We don't do it to appease some spirit that loves the taking of a life. The difference is, in sorcery, Life is considered sacred and powerfully connected to—to faith. Religion. God and his—his Adversary. An area where men are not supposed to tread. That's why the results can be so devastating and long-lasting."

Ron, Ginny and Susan looked a bit lost, as they didn't practice "religion" per se. But Harry and Snape knew what Hermione was talking about.

"But, they can connect with other religions, too. Very old ones, summoning very old gods and creatures once believed to be gods. If they can't enslave them, they serve them in return for power, providing some kind of service or recompense. Many times, they give up their immortal souls. It isn't always a choice either. Very sticky business."

"So, are we dealing with demons or gods?" Harry asked Hermione, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

"We're going to be dealing with forces. I can't tell you what they are. They're called demons but we can't be sure about that, but they're different than what exists in the magical world. Blaise was right about that. According to this book, Crowley was trying to make dark forces turn to the light at Boleskine House. He was trying to make them serve—uh—the Greater Good."

Hermione used this analogy so Ron, Susan and Ginny could comprehend what the sorcerer was doing.

"I thought he was evil," Ron said.

"Well, eventually he spiraled downward and did some terrible things in his search for power. He made his followers do them, too. Things too awful to talk about—"

"Like what?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Oh Ginny, I really don't want to say the things he did. You can borrow the book if you want to know that," Hermione said, going a little green.

"Sounds a lot like Voldemort," Harry mused.

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," Snape said softly, his black eyes reflected in the glass window as he watched the passing of the undulating moors.

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

"So, if Crowley was trying to do something good, what happened?" Susan asked Hermione.

"He left without completing the ritual," Hermione said, shaking her head. "His mentor got into some trouble and Crowley left Boleskine House to go help him. He left so quickly that he didn't send the forces he summoned back. He just left them there, in limbo."

"They couldn't have been very happy about that," Ron observed, finishing his pasty.

"No, I imagine not," Hermione said. "And these were Dark forces, too, forced to appear to him and under his control. He lost that when he left them that way. Some people said they were the reason the rest of his life was so tormented and twisted. They influenced him."

"Sure doesn't sound like our demons," Harry said. "They usually just attack you and be done with it. Either they kill you or carry you away."

"I don't think these work like that. I think they gain more power and delight in turning humans to evil. They influence thoughts and deeds. If they take a person, it's usually when they die, so they can get every bit of use out of them that they can. So, it's very possible we won't actually see them if they're there, but we could be influenced by them. I'm not sure. It definitely won't be business as usual."

Everyone was silent for a moment, then Susan asked, "Hermione, will our banishing magic work on them?"

Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know, Susan. Maybe. If not, we're going to have to try and recreate Muggle rituals to be rid of them. But on a brighter note, a family of Muggles lived at Boleskin House for years, and said they'd never been bothered by anything supernatural. So, Boleskine's reputation could just be legend or myth."

"That, or the demons were laying low for some reason," Harry said. Snape's eyes shifted toward him, then back to the window. But he was listening carefully to everything Hermione was saying.

"But, the family was bothered by other people. Followers of Crowley's work, curiosity seekers and others who would sneak on the grounds and try and break into the house. It had to be very annoying."

"I'll ward the area," Snape said. "That will keep any 'sight-seers' away.

"I think there's a groundskeeper," Hermione said. "He's going to need access, Severus."

"A Muggle?" Ron asked.

"Most likely," Hermione replied.

Snape frowned slightly, thinking he was going to be using his Obliviate spell quite often. He'd have to look at his paperwork again. Hermione was a detail person and had looked the packet about Boleskin House over thoroughly, while Snape skimmed it. It was just information about the setup of the house and surrounding area. But, if she said there was a groundskeeper, more than likely there was. That would be a complication, but he couldn't deny the man his livelihood, Muggle or not.

Maybe he could keep his mouth shut.

* * *

"I got the distinct impression that I'm not wanted here," Blaise said to Draco, who was leafing through his demon book. The blond wizard looked up at him.

"They didn't know I was bringing you. I think they were shocked."

Blaise smirked at this.

"Good. I like keeping Gryffindors on edge," he said. "But I really am just here because of what I've heard about Boleskine House. Well—sort of."

Draco closed his book. Whenever Blaise said "sort of" he definitely had ulterior motives.

"What do you mean, sort of?" Draco asked him.

Blaise gave him a bit of a lascivious smile.

"Just what I said. Sort of. That 'sort of' being Ginny Weasley," he said. "She's a hot little bit of fluff, don't you think?"

Draco looked at him like he was crazy.

"Ginny? She's Harry's girlfriend, Blaise. You don't stand a chance with her," he told his housemate. "She'd never leave Harry for you."

"Who says I want her to leave him? I don't want the little Blood Traitor for a girlfriend. I just want to shag her once. Or maybe twice. Boleskine is a big place, with a carriage house and other little areas. Perfect for sneaking off."

Draco frowned at him.

"Blaise, I distinctly remember you telling Pansy when she asked you if you thought Ginny was pretty, that you'd never touch her, pretty or not."

Blaise shrugged.

"I changed my mind. Besides, she hit me with that spell and left me hairless for two weeks. Giving her a good reaming ought to make me feel better about that," the Slytherin said, frowning.

Draco shook his head.

"You can't do it, Blaise. It won't work out."

Blaise narrowed his brown eyes at him.

"Don't tell me what I can't do, Draco. I know witches. I know how to manipulate them, how to get under their skins and how to get under their robes. Ginny Weasley isn't any different than any other witch. I just have to find out what buttons to push. She's not as goody-two shoes as the rest of them, you know. She has a dark side, and I'm a Dark wizard. She might make due with Potter, but she could have a secret desire to tangle with someone a bit more—exciting. Someone who plays—dirty."

"That someone being you."

"Right in one, mate."

Draco fell silent. Blaise was treading on dangerous ground setting his sights on Ginny Weasley. The witch was formidable by herself and no doubt Harry was quite territorial concerning her. And her brother, Weasley? He'd draw his wand on Blaise if he even looked at his sister cross-eyed.

Draco began to think he shouldn't have brought Blaise with him. He had the potential to be even more troublesome than the demons.

* * *

A/N: Another transitional chapter where I shared a little info on Crowley based on a documentary I watched. Actually, I watched two. One where he was documented as a monster, the other with him as a troubled soul. I went mid-ground, not really vilifying him or condoning him, which is always best in a story in my opinion. That way, you can decide. Oh, Blaise. You just have to put some **** in the game, don't you? Lol. But Blaise's hot. I felt I could show it a little this way. The motives of sorcerers is something I pretty much made up. It was a little uncomfortable to bring religion in, but there had to be a smattering of it. There won't be any more, however. A little shout out to the Wiccans, too.


	78. Arriving at Boleskine House

**

* * *

**

Chapter 77 ~ Arriving at Boleskine House

The group departed the rail in Inverness, the capital of the northern Highlands, then transferred to the Farraline Park Bus Station where they caught a local rural bus to Boleskine parish. There were quite a few people about, tourists mostly and the young wizards and witches blended in fine since none of them wore traditional robes. They didn't want to attract undue Muggle attention. Snape was dressed in boots, black trousers, a white dress shirt and a long, black, but light-weight summer coat, the closest he could get to wearing a robe. He could have passed for a character out of the movie, the Matrix.

Draco and Blaise wore nearly the same garments, but with sports jackets. Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione were casually dressed in comfortable shirts, jeans and trainers. Susan wore a nice floral blouse, dress pants and very comfortable shoes.

The ride to Loch Ness was nice, the bus heading up the West bank of Loch Lomond, over the Rannoch Moor and through the rather spooky Glen Coe area. The scenery was remarkable and changed constantly. There were a number of little stops along the way and people from all parts of the world could be seen congregating there.

"Look! There's the cemetery!" Hermione exclaimed as the bus slowed. Everyone gathered up their things and exited the bus, followed by several other tourists, who immediately entered the cemetery, led by a guide.

Snape slowly crossed the road, followed by the others. They stopped in front of the closed black wrought iron gates of Boleskine House. Each post was topped by an impressive golden eagle. Inside the gates, at the entrance of the gravel road that led to the main house, was the Gate Lodge or Gatehouse.

The Gatehouse was in good condition, but seemed to be uninhabited. It was constructed of stone and had a slate roof. It featured a large, covered porch with double storm doors. There was a rock garden in front with evergreen shrubs and a large amount of flowers.

"That's lovely," Susan breathed, looking at the garden and the surrounding greenery.

Only about half of the front of Boleskin House could be seen from where they stood. The drive went down to the house, then swept around behind it. They could make out a terraced lawn and flower borders. The house itself was of a pinkish tint with a gray slate roof.

"I don't feel anything sinister," Harry said as they looked through the gates. Snape looked behind him toward the graveyard. The tourists were entering a small wooden building and not paying any attention to them. He drew his wand and pointed it at the gate.

"Alohamora," he said softly, and it opened slightly.

"We're in," he said, pushing the gate wider and entering. He let everyone in, then warded the gate securely, Hermione watching him.

"What about the groundskeeper?" she asked him.

"We'll deal with that when it becomes an issue," Snape replied. Ron, Harry, Ginny and Susan were already walking up the gravel road, followed by Blaise and Draco. Blaise was looking at the gate house with some interest.

The grounds were well-maintained. There were Douglas Firs, Cedar and Cypress trees sheltering the house on the north side and the beautiful lawn and flower borders was quite impressive. In front of the house was a very handsome sandstone porch that led to a pair of double storm doors. There was a teardrop lamp post by the front doors, and the front of the house was quite long with bow windows. It seemed a very pleasant residence.

Boxes upon boxes rested on the porch. Snape's things. They would have to be brought in. But the weather looked fine and there was no reason to rush. They could look about first and get the lay of the house.

"Are you sure there's demons here, Snape? Doesn't look like the kind of place they'd hang about in. Too cheery," Ron said.

"No, I'm not sure," Snape said, pulling out a key ring, then unlocking the storm doors, then the interior doors. "But, we'll find out soon enough."

He pushed the doors open, then stepped back, looking at Hermione and gesturing for her to enter. She gave him a smile, hesitated, then hurried through, followed by the others.

Snape was the last to enter.

* * *

Inside Boleskin House, something was happening. An excitement filled the empty halls, the vacant rooms. It was nothing tangible—nothing that could be perceived by natural means. A slight shifting of the ethers. A minute change in atmosphere. But it was there, aware and waiting. Voices were heard coming from the outside and inaudible whispers began, only to be shushed quickly as the doors to Boleskin House opened and a curly-haired, excited young woman appeared in the doorway.

_Youths_.

__

Yes. Young and impressionable, already prepared. Look—

Hermione quickly entered the entrance hall, looking about and smiling.

_That one has Pride._

Yes.

Harry appeared next.

_Pride and Fear._

Yes.

Ginny followed Harry.

_This one has been touched by Evil, taken by it. Vulnerable._

Yesss.

Ron followed Harry.

_Gluttony._

Different, but still useful.

Susan entered, and there was a slight ripple of displeasure.

_She's pure._

Draco entered.

_Much fear—and sloth. Pampered. Privileged Uncertain._

Yes.

Blaise entered, and there was a perceptible, almost joyous indelible response to his presence.

_This one is full Lust, Anger and Covetousness. Ah, I've missed that._

Perfect. Perfect.

Snape followed Blaise in, and there was another pregnant pause.

_This one, there is Darkness, the kind of Darkness born of Evil, but yet—there is no Evil. It is as if he's been—purged. Absolved._

These are not connected to the Faith. Absolution is only given to those of the Faith.

Still, he has the stench of the Reborn. The Resurrected. He bears watching.

_Let us retire and consider this._

Suddenly, the presences—were gone.

* * *

The entrance hall went straight through the house and had doors leading off. First there was the Drawing room that had a huge bay window and a beautiful southern, western and northern view of Loch Ness. It was complete with recessed bookshelves, an open fireplace that housed a solid fuel stove with a tiled hearth. The wooden mantle surrounding it was carved with flowers, fruit and gargoyles.

Next was a family room that was tiled and had steps that led to the cellar.

Susan took to the kitchen immediately, declaring herself house cook. No one objected. It was a lovely, modern facility, with a tiled floor, dishwasher, electric cooker, double stainless steel sink, two ovens, an airing cupboard, a double storage cupboard and access to the attic. All manner of pots, pans and kitchen utensils were artfully hung on racks which could be lowered for easy reach. There was an island in the center where she could prepare food and double as a kitchen table if necessary.

There was a rear porch with its own bathroom, a utility room with a washer and dryer that also had a back door that led to the parking area and gardens.

The dining room had a French window that opened on the gardens and a bay window with views similar to that of the drawing room. It also had two recessed, one shelved and one with built-in drawers.

There were five bedrooms, three with en suite bathrooms and two without. The couples took the bedrooms with the baths and Draco and Blaise took the other two bedrooms. They would have to use the common bathroom but it was quite nice and they had no problem with that.

Ron was relieved to see that the refrigerator and cupboards were fully stocked and as soon as Susan put her things away, she changed clothes and set about making a late lunch for everyone. She had to yell at Ron a couple of times as he fiddled with the stove and dishwasher, which both ran on electricity, and finally Harry came and got him to explore the grounds.

Hermione corralled both Draco and Blaise in the drawing room to debrief them on the history of the house and what they could be facing. Draco listened intently, but Blaise seemed bored as he leaned against the wall next to the fireplace with his arms crossed. His eyes flicked to Ginny occasionally. She was there listening, too. She found Crowley's story and the possibilities concerning the demons fascinating. She didn't look back at Blaise, but knew he kept looking at her. She might have called him on it, but decided she'd better just keep the peace. It wasn't against the law to look, after all.

Snape was examining the cellar. There were a few root vegetables down there, but it was spacious, cool and airy. The perfect place for his lab. His black eyes shifted about. He could feel no evil presences at all.

Maybe the demons were a myth after all. Still, he was glad his friends were with him. They could still enjoy the house even without demons to banish.

* * *

Ron and Harry couldn't begin to cover the forty-seven acres that Boleskine covered. They found a boathouse, but no boat and another, older gatehouse on the grounds. There was a pond with a number of newts in it, and flowers everywhere. They also found a workshop with gardening supplies in it, and a small duck pond.

A hillside covered in rhododendrons made a dramatic backdrop, and there were a number of trees all about that added even more to the landscape. A barn and pony paddocks abounded. There was a lot of space here and it was really a beautiful place.

"I tell you, Snape's got it good. Look at this place, Harry," Ron said as they headed back toward the house. "He's set."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I don't think there's anything evil here. It's too beautiful. Demons like dark, dismal haunts as far as I know."

On the back porch, two invisible presences watched as Harry and Ron approached. So, they knew about them, did they? The whispering began again, and once again the presences shushed them with the admonition.

_Patience. Subtlety is everything. Let them feel—secure. Safe._

* * *

Hermione finished her debriefing with Draco and Blaise, and Draco walked out of the drawing room with her, asking a few more questions. Ginny started to follow, but for some reason paused. Blaise was still leaning against the fireplace wall, looking at her.

And then?

Then, we will influence them. All except one. One, we can begin now. Come.

"I suppose you're still angry about the hair hex," she said to the wizard, who simply stared back at her, not answering at first, his brown eyes purposely moving down her body and up again so she would see it.

Then he said, "Not a very Gryffindor thing to do. A Slytherin? Yes. But a Gryffindor? No."

"No one's perfect," Ginny replied with a slight smirk.

Blaise didn't return it.

"No one except your boyfriend," he responded. "I imagine you worship him. The famous Harry Potter."

Ginny frowned at him.

"I don't worship him. That's ridiculous. Harry and I are on equal footing. We have a normal relationship," she informed him.

"I wonder how that is?" Blaise said.

"How what is?"

"How it is to be with him now that Voldemort's dead and there's no excitement or danger anymore."

"It's fine. Wonderful, in fact."

"Is it?" Blaise asked her.

"Yes."

Blaise straightened, then slowly walked toward Ginny, his eyes resting on her face, his expression slightly disdainful. He stopped in front of her.

"Do you ever get bored?" he asked her.

"Bored?"

"Yes, bored. With him?"

"What? No! Harry is a lot of fun," Ginny responded.

"Only fun?"

"What are you trying to say, Blaise?"

The wizard smirked slightly.

"What makes you think I'm trying to say anything? I just asked you a couple of questions."

"They're personal questions."

"No one twisted your arm to make you answer them," the Slytherin told her. "You answered them because you wanted to answer them. Why are you so—defensive?"

"I'm not."

"People get defensive when they are trying to protect something that's vulnerable. What's vulnerable with you, Ginny Weasley? What are you trying to protect?"

"Nothing!"

"Defensive."

"Nothing!"

Blaise shook his head, still smirking at her.

"Slytherins are far more honest than Gryffindors when it comes to unpleasant realities. You need to find out what yours are," he said softly, then walked past her, very closely and exited the drawing room, Ginny looking after him, confused.

What had just happened here?

The two invisible presences watched as Ginny slowly left the drawing room after Blaise.

__

He's good.

Yes. Yes, he is. She was easy to make hesitate.

Yes. Whatever touched her, touched her deeply.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope this chapter came out all right. I wanted to move through it quickly and get them situated and the initial conflicts in place. I decided to make these "forces" very smooth and insidious rather than outright horrifying. But smooth and insidious CAN be horrifying if presented properly. Ginny's being touched by evil refers to her being under Tom Riddle's influence in Chamber of Secrets. They can sense it and possibly use it. Anyway, Thanks for reading. And a shoutout to my girl J*. Thanks for the cigs. :))

A pity, but a challenge. Challenge can be interesting.


	79. The Consensus

**Chapter 78 ~ The Consensus**

After lunch, Hermione, Ginny and Susan tested the house for tell-tale signs of Dark Magic while the wizards brought in Snape's things. Mostly, these items consisted of his books, his lab equipment and boxes of ingredients. The books were brought into the drawing room and the equipment carefully transported to the cellar. Ron and Harry were transporting the boxes from the porch to the cellar entrance outside the house, then Draco and Blaise brought them down the cellar stairs and Snape carefully put them in the areas he wanted.

Blaise grumbled about his not knowing he'd be used as the "help."

"Servants should be doing this," he said, frowning as he levitated a large box directed to him from Draco at the top of the stairs, down the rest of the way to Snape. "Don't you have servants?"

"No. I didn't want them," Snape replied from the bottom of the stairs, catching the box with magic and setting it to the side.

Draco looked incredulous at this. He didn't want servants?

He realized Snape had grown up poor, but he had been given the opportunity to have servants and turned it down? That meant he would have to cook and clean for himself. Then he realized Hermione would be here. She'd probably do that for him. Witches were good for something other than shagging after all.

Hermione would have hexed Draco back to King's Cross if she knew that the little, pampered prat thought she'd be a house frau for Severus. Sure, she would do some of the cooking and cleaning, but so would Snape. She was here to learn and improve just as much as he was.

Snape winced as he heard Ron curse and the sound of glass breaking.

"Ron, you clumsy oaf!" Draco said with disgust as Ron stood up and brushed himself off.

"Oi, I'm all right," he said. "Just took a misstep."

He had stepped on a loose shoelace dangling from his trainer and tripped, dropping the box he was levitating. Harry was laughing from the porch.

Snape just shook his head at Weasley's clumsiness, although he wasn't angry. He'd be able to repair any broken glassware and they were moving a lot of boxes.

He wondered how Hermione was doing.

None of the wizards were aware of the pair of sharp blue eyes watching them work their magic from between the copse of trees.

**********************************

Hermione, Ginny and Susan moved from room to room, their wands carefully covering every inch of space as they investigated closets, bathrooms, cabinets and every recessed area as they tested for Dark magic.

"Will they even register?" Ginny asked as she rose from her knees after checking under a bed.

"I don't know, Ginny, but I'm not getting any indication of any Dark magic ever being here. There is usually some residual negative energy left behind," Hermione replied with a slight frown.

"Maybe—maybe it was all imagination," Susan said. "Maybe Crowley just believed he summoned forces. Could he see them?"

"In a manner of speaking—not clearly. They were shadowy. But he had a method of identifying their physical presences. He built a terrace and covered it with fine sand from the Loch. The forces supposedly left footprints."

"Well, that was convenient," Susan said with a smile that showed she was starting not to believe there had ever been anything sinister at Boleskine House except what was in the Muggle imagination.

"That's where he summoned them, I think. He kept them in that area with drawn circles they couldn't cross. I'm not sure if they were pentagrams, but something similar," Hermione informed her.

"So, we definitely need to check the terrace," Ginny said, heading out of the door and down the entrance hall to the drawing room. A door had been constructed and opened on the north, and a stone terrace. The door was closed and locked securely.

Hermione and Susan followed Ginny in, and they stood looking at the heavy door.

"This room was where he performed his rituals and out there is the terrace. Supposedly, he summoned both good and evil forces and they kind of marched around in a procession. The demons came because they wanted to overcome him, so he used himself as a lure."

"Well, let's see if any of them hung about. Alohamora!" Ginny said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. There was an unassuming enclosed terrace made of stone. Again, there was nothing dark they could sense as they carefully tested the area.

"No. Nothing here," Ginny said, turning to Hermione. "Looks like we came here for nothing. There's nothing evil in Boleskine House."

"But there were so many reports," Hermione said uncertainly. "Not everyone could have made them up."

She hated being uncertain about anything.

"It's not a waste. It's a beautiful house. So, we don't have to banish demons. We can still help set up everything and enjoy being here," Susan said to Hermione. "I'm thrilled to be here. It's still an adventure to me and I'm glad you asked me to come."

Hermione smiled at Susan. She really was a good egg and knew how to find the good side of things. No wonder Ron liked her so much.

"Still, it would have been cool to face something—different," Ginny said wistfully as they left the room.

"I bet your mum will be happy about this," Susan said to her. "She was so worried Ron would be spirited away."

"Yeah, she would be."

The witches left the room without closing the terrace doors back. They didn't see the slight, shadowy forms that momentarily materialized and milled about excitedly before fading out.

*************************************

"So, I'm afraid there's no evidence of Dark forces here," Hermione told everyone as they sat around the kitchen island eating sandwiches and drinking milk. "We're sorry to have brought you all here for nothing."

Ron looked at Hermione.

"What do you mean 'For nothing?' This place is great, Hermione. I'll be glad to hang about a few days, help Sev set up and just have a bit of R&R. What about you, Harry?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"I'm not ready to leave, are you, Ginny?" he asked his girlfriend.

Blaise's dark eyes shifted toward her.

"No. Not yet. All we'd do is hang around the Burrow if we went home. Here we can do what we want."

"I'm definitely staying. I was shocked Mum and Dad let me come. I'm not in a hurry to go home," Susan added.

Everyone looked at Draco and Blaise. Draco looked very disappointed.

"I was hoping to face off with a few demons," he said somewhat dejectedly. "I wanted to—to face a challenge."

"Well, hang about a bit. I could ambush you a few times. That'll keep you on your toes," Ron offered, his blue eyes narrowed a bit.

"I could summon demons for you, Draco," Blaise said soberly. "You can face them."

Everyone looked at him. That was definitely Dark magic and Hermione said so.

Blaise looked at her coldly.

"I'm a Dark wizard, Granger. Doing Dark magic is second nature for me. Don't act like I'm doing anything out of character. I'm a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor, remember? Draco came here to face demons. If I can help him, I will. Unless Snape objects—"

Snape looked at Blaise, then Draco, who looked a bit hopeful. Why not? If Blaise could summon demons, he could banish them as well. And there was plenty of space to practice without getting in anyone's way.

"I have no problem with it, Blaise, as long as you don't do it in Boleskine House itself. If it is demon-free, I want to keep it that way," Snape said as Hermione frowned at him and Draco smiled broadly.

Blaise nodded somberly, and Ginny's eyes flicked toward him for a moment, then away. Summoning demons was a dangerous business. Blaise was an arse, but he was courageous.

Blaise suddenly looked at Harry.

"Care to come along, Potter? For support?" he asked him, sounding as if he expected him to say no. But he had a reason for asking.

"Well, I was going to take Ginny for a walk around the grounds—" he started to say.

"That sounds exciting," Blaise said, mirth in his eyes as he turned them on Ginny, who reddened. She was thinking of how he said Harry was boring.

"No. No, he'll go. We'll both go," she said quickly. "Right, Harry?"

Harry blinked at her.

"If you want to, Ginny," he acquiesced.

_What a bloody wimp_, Blaise thought.

"Well, Susan and I are going to explore the area in our Animagus forms," Ron announced, starting on his sixth sandwich. The girls had eaten two apiece and the wizards, only three.

"Ron, you certainly are hungry. Hungrier than usual," Susan observed.

"I know," he said around the sandwich. "I can't help myself. They just taste so good—"

"What are your plans tonight, Severus?" Harry asked him.

The wizard looked at Hermione intensely.

"I had hoped Hermione would go flying with me," he said softly.

Hermione blushed.

"Of course I will," she replied. "The Master of Boleskine House needs to familiarize himself with his domain."

"The Master," Snape purred at her suggestively. "I like the sound of that."

Everyone went a little quiet at the blatant sexuality in Snape's remark and Hermione turned crimson and grabbed her cold milk, drinking down a large amount of it. Susan rose and collected the empty platters and plates. Hermione quickly hopped up to help her.

Blaise stood up.

"It's getting dark. We should go now and find a place to practice," he said. Draco rose eagerly. Harry and Ginny also stood up.

"So, let's go," Ginny said. There was challenge in her voice as she looked at Blaise, who smirked at her, then turned and led the way out of the kitchen.

Hermione and Susan washed and dried the dishes and put them away, then Ron and Susan left, leaving Snape alone in the kitchen with Hermione. She looked at him.

"I really was hoping there were demons, here, Severus. It would have been exciting to try and banish them, doubly so because they were a product of Muggle magic. I planned to document the entire thing," she told him.

"I wouldn't have expected any less, Hermione," he said softly. "But I hope you aren't too disappointed. We have another, more pressing purpose for being here. Potions."

"Yes. You're right of course, but that would have been a real feather in my cap, documenting demons summoned by a Muggle. I'm so good at gathering groundbreaking information. Few can do it like I can," she said.

Snape listened to her boast, a bit surprised.

"Yes—you are good at it," he said slowly.

"The best," she replied a bit sharply.

He didn't answer that. There were many good researchers in the wizarding world. He frowned slightly. She sounded pompous. Hermione always sounded confident about her abilities, but never like this. Maybe she just didn't realize how arrogant she sounded this time. He decided to leave it alone. Everyone had their moments.

"Are you ready to go flying?" he asked her.

"Yes."

"Good. Just let me go get my broom."

"Your—your broom?"

"Yes, my broom."

Hermione looked a bit disturbed. Why did he want to take his Firebolt?

"But, we always fly with you as a Gryffin," she told him.

"I know, Hermione," he said, rising and walking up to her. He took both her hands in his, then kissed her lips softly and quickly.

"But, as a Gryffin, I can't hold you," he said softly, "and I want to hold you tonight when we fly. You'll let me do that, won't you?"

Hermione looked up at him and gave him a smile. Flying under the moon in his arms would be wonderful, even if it was on a broomstick.

"Of course I will," she said.

"Good. Just let me get my Firebolt," he said, exiting the kitchen.

Hermione sat back down on one of the stools and waited.

From the furthermost right corner of the kitchen, she was quietly being observed

_If we are delicate with our influence, eventually everything she does, she'll feel is genius—_

An evil chuckle rippled the ethers in response

_--whether it is or not._

*********************************

"I still can't believe you gave Blaise permission to summon demons here, Severus," Hermione said as she rested against him. They were lazily flying low over the grounds.

"You seem to forget, I summoned a demon with you before," he said softly.

"Well, that was different," Hermione said, frowning.

"Why? Because it was me and you? There's no difference. We aren't special, Hermione. Others have the right to take chances as well. It's not as if Blaise is going to send the demons after us—"

"I wouldn't put it past him. He's just so—so dark," she said. "If he had it in for one of us, there's no telling what he could do."

"He doesn't have it 'in' for any of us, Hermione. Stop being so paranoid and enjoy the night—and me. This is our first night at Boleskin. It's—special. No more Blaise."

Snape's arms tightened around her as he gained altitude, Hermione leaning back against him. She wasn't as scared now. Flying with him in his Gryffin form had desensitized her concerning heights, although she preferred the safety of the saddle to sitting side-saddle on a slender broomstick. But she trusted Severus, and he held her gently and firmly as if he'd never let her go.

After a minute or two, Snape said, "Isn't that a barn?"

Yes, they could make it out in the waning moonlight. A very large barn. Snape circled overhead a few times, then landed before the building, letting Hermione off then reducing and pocketing his broom. Catching hold of Hermione's hand, he pulled open one of the large doors and led her inside. He lit the tip of his wand and looked around.

"Oh, Severus—should we be in here?"

"I'm the current Master of Boleskine House, aren't I? This barn is part of my domain," Snape replied. He saw a lantern hanging on a beam and retrieved it, lighting it with the tip of his wand and turning up the flame so it gave a warm glow.

There were tools, riggings, barrels, stalls and other items here, but no animals. It seemed the barn was used for general storage. In the center of it was a huge pile of fresh, sweet-smelling hay. Snape looked at it, and then back at Hermione.

He smiled lasciviously.

"The Master of the Manor wants a tumble in the hay," he said to Hermione.

"In the hay? Severus, it'll get in my hair and everything," she said reluctantly.

"It's much better than sand," he replied, pulling her into a kiss and falling into the hay with her.

* * *

A/N: The "everything she does is genius" is a paraphrasing of a quote I'd read someplace. I'll try and find it to credit it later. Busy day with the double-lunged duo aka the Twins. They're tag teaming grandma again. I change, feed and put one down to sleep and the other wakes up. I know it's an "evil baby" conspiracy. Lol. They turned 3 months on the 29th. I need to get some batteries and upload pics. Dante is HUGE. Shante's so tiny and cute. Anyway, thanks for reading.


	80. On the Grounds of Boleskine

**Chapter 79 ~ On the Grounds of Boleskine**

Straw flew up into the air as Snape and Hermione wrestled around, Hermione laughing as he tugged at her clothing. Finally, she began to help him, trainers, boots, shirts, jeans, trousers, socks, bra, boxers and knickers flying out of the haystack to the barn floor as the young couple went at it. Snape covered them up completely with straw so all that could be seen of them was a moving lump of hay, making its way through the pile, little cries and gasps of pleasure accompanying the motion.

There wasn't a lot of foreplay. They were both too randy and excited, Snape taking Hermione passionately, driving her through the hay almost brutally, his mouth locked to hers as they shagged missionary style.

Outside, Susan and Ron gamboled up to the barn in their Animagus forms, then both transformed.

"A barn," Ron said with a smile, his eyes hot. "How about a shag, Susan?"

"In there? Oh, Ron."

"Oh, come on. It's fun to do it in different places. Come on, Susan," he said, grabbing her and snogging her soundly. When he let her up for air and looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, she sighed.

"All right, Ron," she said. "Just a quick one."

"That's fine," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling open the barn door.

The first thing they saw was the lit lantern on the ground and the huge haystack. Then the clothing tossed all over the place.

"What—" Ron said under his breath.

Suddenly, they both were startled as a big pile of straw appeared and started to vigorously rise and fall, jerking through the haystack.

Then, they heard Hermione shriek, "Oh! Severus! Damn!"

"Whoops!" Susan said, softly as Ron blinked at the very animated pile of straw as it buckled and bounced with such alacrity that little pieces were flying out of it.  
Wow. Snape was certainly pouring it on.

"Let's go, Ron, before they realize we're here," Susan said, pulling at him.

Still staring, Ron let her pull him out, then closed the barn door. It scraped the ground and Snape popped up out of the hay, looking around, straw sticking out of his hair. Hermione sat up on her elbows, also with straw in her hair.

"Did you hear that?" Snape asked her, still looking about.

"I didn't hear anything."

Snape scented the air and discerned the scent of orangutan and elk. Uh, oh. Ron and Susan must have come in and seen them. He blinked, then looked down at Hermione lying before him, flushed and naked, bits of straw sticking to her body, her full breasts still puckered.

Oh well. They were gone now. There was no need to upset her.

"I must have been hearing things," he purred, then dropped on her as she squealed, pulling the hay over them again and continuing their breaking in of the barn.

Ah, to be young and in love.

* * *

Ron and Susan walked back toward Boleskin House, Ron very silent. Susan held his hand and kept the silence as well, for a while. But, finally, she said something.

"Ron, are you okay?"

Ron started and looked at her with a sober expression.

"Oh, yeah. I'm—I'm fine," he replied.

"Seeing that was a bit of a shock, wasn't it?" she asked him softly.

"Seeing what? Oh—Snape and Hermione shagging? Yeah, a little."

They were silent for a few more steps.

"It bothers you a little, doesn't it?" Susan asked him.

"No—"

"Ron—"

Ron sighed. Susan could always tell when he wasn't being completely truthful.

"Well, a little—but I don't know why, exactly. I mean—I'm perfectly happy with you, Susan. I love you. What we have is better than anything I've ever had before—"

Susan smiled at him.

"Yes, but you were with Hermione, Ron. You loved her, too. You still do in a way," Susan told him. "When you've cared about someone the way you have about Hermione, then see them with someone else—it can be hard, even if you've moved on."

"It doesn't make any sense, Susan. Why do I feel anything about it?"

"Because, tonight, the reality set in, Ron. That's all. She's really with Severus—really with him in every way. It's just—just something residual."

Ron was so into Susan, he had pushed Hermione completely out of his mind, focusing on his own happiness. He'd gotten used to seeing her with Snape and even the occasional show of affection between them didn't bother him, because he was much more affectionate with Susan publicly. But there was a difference between seeing a peck on the lips and the two of them moving haystacks around.

"It'll be all right, Ron," Susan said, squeezing his hand.

He looked down at her. She was so perfect for him. Most witches probably would have been jealous about his reaction, but—Susan wasn't and that was because she understood connections between people didn't just break when they went separate ways. Ron and Hermione were friends unsuited to be anything more. But they had tried, and even though it hadn't worked out—there would always be a bond. In a world that could be cold and heartless, people needed bonds.

"Susan, you are something special," he said to her softly. "Really."

"You're something special, too, Ron," she replied with a soft smile.

Together, they headed for Boleskine House.

* * *

"Arrgh!" Draco cried as Blaise sent a fire demon flying at him, Ginny and Harry standing off to the side with their wands drawn as it lit up the night, roaring flame.

"Get it, Draco!" Blaise cried. "Focus! You can stop it!"

Draco produced a huge ice shield that stopped the demon from advancing.

"Good! You've stopped it!" Blaise called, smiling. "Now, use your wand to push it back! Force the shield forward! Drive the bloody thing back! Show it who's the strongest!"

Encouraged by his success at stopping the demon, and encouraged by Blaise, Draco slowly walked forward, using his wand to push the demon back. At first, it was difficult, but Draco was determined. He had to keep sending the ice because the heat of the creature was melting it. Slowly, he began to push it back, the ice stream becoming stronger.

"Yes! That's it! You're stronger, Draco. Cover it in ice! You can do it!"

As Draco drove the demon back, it began to lose color, dimming, the ice beginning to surround and encase it, melting less and less.

"Why isn't Blaise telling Draco to use a Banishing spell?" Ginny asked Harry.

Harry shrugged.

Now, the demon was encased completely in ice, only the eyes retaining any glow.

"Now, destroy the ice, Draco! Blast it to bits!" Blaise instructed.

Draco snarled a spell, blasting the ice and the demon to pieces, small shards raining down on everyone.

"Good. Good, Draco," Blaise said to his smiling housemate.

"I did it," Draco said, pleased.

Blaise nodded.

"You're stronger than any demon, Draco. You have to remember that," Blaise told him. "Men have dominion of the earth, not demons. They are beneath us."

A small bonfire was burning for light, and Ginny looked at Blaise standing near the flickering flame, a proud, disdainful expression on his face as he spoke of the demons. His eyes glittered and she could feel power and darkness coming off of him.

"Now, everyone get back. I'm going to show you all how to deal with an Earth demon," Blaise said. He was dressed in traditional wizard robes and shook back his sleeves.

"An Earth demon? Blaise, those are really dangerous," Harry said to the wizard. "How do you even know how to summon one?"

Ginny sighed inwardly at Harry's caution. It was good he was cautious, but still—now wasn't the time to show it, especially in front of Blaise.

"Nothing wrong with facing a little danger, Potter. I'd think you'd know that, considering—" the Slytherin said, his lip slightly curled. "But to answer your question, I know how to summon, banish and destroy a large amount of elemental demons because of the line of work I've been recruited for. I'm going to be an 'Unspeakable.' After I've gone abroad for Gringotts for three years, of course. If I survive, then—I'm in."

"An Unspeakable?" Ginny repeated. "That's a dangerous job, Blaise."

"That's why I'm going to be one. No namby-pamby cushy job for this Slytherin. I live on the edge, that's what makes me feel whole, Weasley."

"That 'edge' being nearly getting yourself killed for a living. That's a healthy attitude," Ginny shot back at him.

Harry was suitably impressed. Being recruited to be an Unspeakable was a very high honor. It took a certain kind of wizard to work in that sector of the Ministry. Unspeakables worked with the darkest, most dangerous magic and magical items known to the wizarding world. Some even unknown, kept from the public because knowledge of the horrible things out there would send the citizenry into a panic.

Being an Unspeakable was sort of like the position of 'The Men in Black' but for wizards. A lot of footwork was involved.

"What are you going to do for Gringotts?" Harry asked him.

Blaise put his wand away. Clearly, he wouldn't get anything done until he answered a few questions. Normally, he wouldn't do it, but he wanted to impress Ginny.

"I'll be 'collecting artifacts,'" Blaise said.

"Raiding tombs. You'll be a Cursebreaker, like my brother Bill was," Ginny replied. "He used to break curses on tombs and other structures to get treasure or magical items for the goblins at the bank."

Blaise looked disdainful, as usual.

"Hah. A Cursebreaker? No. All they do is gain access. I'll be a Cleaner," he replied. "I'll be the first one to enter. My job is to take out whatever guards the items we're seeking. Usually demons, but anything can be inside. Gorgons, Basilisks, Dragons or supernatural entities. I came to Boleskine hoping to get some experience with beings created with Muggle magic, because much of what I'll be facing will be products of that. Otherwise, it will be trial and error. And an error can cost me my life."

Harry shook his head.

"I can't understand why anyone would want a job like that," he said to Blaise.

"Life isn't worth living if you don't take some—risks," Blaise replied, looking directly at Ginny. "I'm a risk taker, Potter. It's what motivates me. I'm going to work for Gringotts to build up my resume for the Unspeakable position. Besides, the idea of taking what isn't mine—and the danger that doing so involves—gives me wood."

Harry noticed Blaise was looking at Ginny as he said this, and the boy who lived didn't like the vibe he felt as Ginny frowned back at the Slytherin. He moved a bit closer to her.

"Yeah, but you know wood can be splintered," Harry replied, his green eyes hard behind his glasses. "In fact, it can be chopped into tiny pieces."

"That depends on how well someone can swing the ax, Potter," Blaise responded with a rather dark smirk.

"Just show us the Earth demon, Blaise," Harry said coldly.

Draco just stood there and listened, wincing a little at the tension in the air. Blaise had done it. He'd put Potter on the scent. Damn it. Slytherins were supposed to be subtle with their sneaky plans. But Blaise wasn't. He was going for bold, because he suspected Ginny liked bold and reckless. Not to mention dangerous.

With the death of Voldemort, Harry wasn't like that anymore. Ginny might love Harry for who he was, but Blaise was certain that the element of danger surrounding him had to play an integral part of that initial attraction. "Attraction" being the key.

"All right, Potter."

Blaise produced his wand again, shaking back his robes sleeves. His brown eyes were narrowed as he looked at Harry, who returned the favor.

The wizard slowly raised his arms over his head and closed his eyes. His mouth moved subtly, then he clasped his wand with both hands and brought it down hard toward the ground as if chopping it.

There was a rumble, then the ground began to shake. It was like a small earthquake.

"What's happening?" Ginny cried as they were buffeted around as the quaking intensified. Suddenly, a small mound formed in front of Harry as Blaise looked on, a nasty smile on his face as the mound increased in size, turning into a large pillar of earth. Roots and stones stuck out of it oddly and it had to be at least thirty feet tall. The quaking stopped and all was quiet.

Harry had backed up and stood staring at the pillar, Ginny beside him.

"I suggest you move," Blaise called over.

Draco backed away further, as did Harry and Ginny. Suddenly the pillar exploded, earth raining down on everyone. In the place of the pillar stood a creature made of solid earth. It had two legs, four arms and one long, rather pointed head. The features were twisted as if made of clay, and the empty narrowed eyes glowed with an eerie green light. Its limbs were blockish and dirt trickled from it without it losing mass.

It stared down at Harry and Ginny, then lunged forward with a roar, attempting to smash them with its huge fists.

"Run!" Harry cried as the creature lurched after them.

"Blaise! What the fuck are you doing?" Draco yelled at him.

"They'll be fine, Draco. Potter just has to stop running and start fighting. I'll get rid of it if it gets the best of him."

"Blaise—I swear—" Draco hissed, running after the demon.

Both Ginny and Harry had their wands out, sending Reducto spells at the demon. But the spell had little effect, simply blasting earth off it. They dove aside as the fists slammed the earth again. Draco cast a spell he learned in Herbology at the demon, and some of the roots grew out of its body and wrapped around its legs, tying them together. The creature toppled.

"Good one, Draco!" Blaise called approvingly.

But the demon wasn't done for yet, and pulled itself along the ground with its arms, making quick progress. Harry shot fire at it, and one of the arms hardened, and broke off.

"Fire! Fire will do it!" he cried.

Blaise watched as Harry, Draco and Ginny started roasting the demon, turning it into fired earth. Once it was completely hard, they blasted it into dust. Harry and Ginny were covered with dirt from diving out of the way so much. Harry turned his wand on Blaise immediately.

"You did that on purpose, Blaise. You sent it after us!"

Blaise looked at Harry calmly as Ginny also pointed her wand at him, furious. The Slytherin made no attempt to raise his wand.

"Well, I invited you here for 'support.' What did you imagine that would be? You didn't expect just to watch, did you? You helped Draco just like you were supposed to do."

"You didn't say you'd be sending demons after us!" Ginny spat at him.

"I shouldn't have had to say it," Blaise shot back at her. "What else did you think was going to happen if you were here for support? I can't believe how thick you two are. This session is over. Obviously, you can't handle it."

With their wands still trained on him, Blaise turned and stalked away into the darkness. Harry and Ginny let him go, not knowing what to do other than hex him in the back. Ginny was sorely tempted to do it. If she had been alone, she would have.

Draco didn't seem to register the argument. He was looking at what was left of the demon. He'd manage to overcome it as well. As far as Draco was concerned, this had been a very, very good night.

* * *

When the earth shook, Severus and Hermione had simply attributed it to the intense climax they reached, which coincided nicely with Blaise's spell. Spent and smiling, with straw sticking all over their bodies, they lay in the haystack, catching their breaths.

"Much better than sand," Snape reiterated.

Hermione lifted her hips and pulled several long pieces of straw out of the cleft of her bum. She had been on the bottom the entire time. Sliding through the haystack hadn't been without its price.

"Speak for yourself," she told the wizard, throwing the straw at him. He brushed it away.

"We'll have to break in the Gate House next," Snape told her.

Hermione frowned at him.

"We've just finished having sex and you're already thinking about shagging in the Gate House?"

Snape looked at her.

"Well, statistics state young men think about sex every five seconds—so, it's really to be expected, Hermione," he informed her.

"Don't go spouting facts at me, Severus Snape. You're just—just wanton."

"Wanton?"

"Yes, wanton."

"I thought women were wanton. Men are just—always ready."

He was rewarded with a faceful of straw for that remark. He brushed it away and spit out a few pieces that got into his mouth. But he smiled at Hermione and she smiled back at him.

"I like being in love," he said softly, then pulled her into a kiss.

* * *

Twenty minutes later they were slowly flying back toward Boleskine House, Snape holding Hermione against him firmly, his chin resting on her shoulder. He kissed her cheek from time to time, Hermione hunching her shoulders every time he did so.

She liked being in love, too.

Standing on a ridge was a shadowy form, watching the couple fly back to Boleskine house. When they landed and entered the premises, it slowly walked away.

* * *

A/N: This was just a fun little chapter to write. Building up tensions and adding a little mystery. I think its going to be a little longer than I anticipated. I don't foresee an easy wrap up right now. Blaise is something else, but now Harry suspects he wants Ginny. Not sure what's going on with Ginny yet though. Anyway, thanks for reading. ***


	81. During the Night

**Chapter 80 ~ During the Night**

Ron was in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. A huge amount of food was on the table as he constructed himself a Weasley sandwich. There was no set recipe for a Weasley sandwich, except that it involved at least eight thick slices of bread, condiments and any and everything edible that could be held between them. Ham, cheese, fish, poultry, meat, vegetables, pickles, half a roast—if he could stack it up—he could eat it.

Snape and Hermione entered the kitchen as Ron finished his masterpiece. He had three different kinds of bread to his sandwich. Pumpernickel, rye and sourdough. His sandwich balanced precariously on the plate as he looked up at the couple.

"Did you save anything for the rest of us, Weasley?" Snape asked him, eyeing the huge construction.

"There's plenty of food," Ron said, reddening a little.

"Well, good. I'm famished," Hermione said, walking around the island and heading for the refrigerator. Ron gave her a quick look, then looked at Snape who was looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"How was your night?" Snape asked him pointedly.

"Fine. Susan and I just explored the grounds," Ron said a little tightly.

"By the barn, too?"

Hermione jerked her head out of the fridge when she heard that.

"Just for a second," Ron replied, meeting Snape's eyes. "But, I've got to go. Susan's waiting for me."

Ron picked up the sandwich and quickly exited the kitchen. Hermione looked at Snape with rounded eyes.

"Ron and Susan were near the barn?"

"Yes. I scented them when we left," Snape responded.

"Do you think—think they knew we were—you know—"

Snape shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but they couldn't have seen us under the hay, Hermione. We were completely covered up. Don't worry about it."

Hermione blushed, but returned to the fridge to gather up sandwich fixings. She frowned.

"You know, there was a lot more food in here this afternoon," she said.

* * *

"Ron, are you eating again?" Susan said from the bed as Ron entered the room with his sandwich. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. I was starving," he responded. "Shagging does that to a man."

Ron and Susan had a rousing round of sex when they returned to Boleskine House, since the barn had been occupied. But Ron made himself a sandwich when they first arrived.

Susan smiled. Ron did expend a lot of energy during sex. Sometimes it felt as if he were everywhere at once. But still, it seemed as if his appetite was growing.

"Well, you'd better pay more attention to what you eat, Ron. Metabolism can change, you know."

Ron paused before biting into his sandwich.

"You'd still love me if I gained a few pounds, wouldn't you, Susan?"

She smiled at him.

"I'd love you, but there would be things we do now that would be hard to do if we were both big—"

"Things?"

Susan twiddled her fingers a little to show him she meant things sexual.

"Oh—things. Well, all the Weasley men are slender, so I don't think we'll have to worry about that, now—"

Ron blissfully bit into his sandwich, losing a little lettuce as Susan looked on, shaking her head.

Ron could certainly put it away.

* * *

Blaise did his two hundred pushups before bed, the amount he did every night, then showered and retired. He would get up early for him morning run. His thoughts turned to Ginny. She seemed very angry at him at the clearing. It was difficult to read her, to tell if she found him exciting enough.

Blaise had learned early on that a witch would shag if a wizard turned her on, whether or not they went out with someone else. She just had to be reassured that the wizard wouldn't tell, and Blaise, as much as an arse as he was, never told who he'd given the hard one to. He might say he had his sights on someone, but he wouldn't tell if he'd been successful. But it was easy to tell he had, simply because he'd stop pursuing her.

Besides, Blaise liked doing witches that had boyfriends. It was clear ground, with no residual or unnecessary attachments. He didn't have to give gifts or spend time with them. The relationship was always clear, always physical. His gift was his ability to 'bring out the inner slut' as he told Draco.

Doing the famous Harry Potter's girlfriend would be stellar. He just had to watch for an opening to approach her. And carefully.

She had quite a temper.

********************************

Around two in the morning, Draco lay in his bed asleep and his stomach growled horrendously.

"House elf!" he mumbled, still partially in dream land..

He was used to doing this at home and at Hogwarts. When no squeaky voice answered him, he sat up in bed groggily, holding his stomach.

"I'm bloody famished," he said, sliding out of bed and pulling his housecoat over his boxers. He stepped into his slippers and exited his bedroom. Instead of going to the kitchen, he walked down to Ron and Susan's room and knocked hard on the door.

Ron woke up.

"Who is it?" he called sleepily.

"It's Draco. I need Susan to fix me something to eat."

Ron lay there in the dark in stunned disbelief. Susan was sleeping comfortably and deeply in the crook of his arm.

"Go bloody make your own food, Draco!" he called back.

"But she's the house cook," Draco said insistently.

"Yeah, but she's not your personal servant, you git. Make your own food or I'll serve you up a knuckle sandwich with plenty of punch!"

"Peon," Draco snarled, leaving.

He was one of the privileged. He'd never made his own food in his life.

"That's what I get for associating with people socially beneath me. They don't know their place in the pecking order. Well, I'll just contact father tomorrow and have him send me a personal servant immediately."

Draco wasn't usually this uppity. Over the past two years he'd been taken down a peg or two. Under usual conditions, he might have given a go of serving himself as a novelty, but this was the first time it had come up and he found himself furious that he wasn't being accommodated. He walked into the kitchen, scrounged around until he found a few pumpkin pasties, took them and headed back to his room in a bad temper. He'd wanted something more substantial than this prepackaged stuff. He was used to fresh foods.

As he returned to his bedroom, two presences watched him with quiet glee.

* * *

Ginny tossed and turned in Harry's arms as she had a troubled sleep. She was dreaming about the Chamber of Secrets. She hadn't done that in years.

Harry was sitting next to her, dying from the Basilisk's bite and telling her to go find Ron and get out of the chamber.

Suddenly, Harry was gone and Blaise Zabini was standing over her, offering her his hand, his brown eyes sober. Confused at the scene change, she took his hand and he pulled her strongly to her feet. They stood looking at each other and suddenly he grabbed her and pulled her into a hot, searing kiss that sent her senses whirling. It felt so wrong, but so right as their mouths came together, his full lips covering hers as he pulled her tight against him.

She didn't fight him as his hands ran all over her body and he kissed her, claiming her tongue as if he owned her. There were no words as he took her down to the stone floor, pulling apart her robes, his eyes hot and hungry, then tearing at his own. He opened his trousers, then reached between their partially nude bodies and pulled her knickers aside.

Then--

"Oh my gods!" Ginny breathed, sitting straight up in the bed.

"Wha—what? Ginny?" Harry said sleepily, automatically retrieving his glasses from the night stand and putting them on, looking up at his distressed girlfriend.

"Ginny? What's the matter?" he asked her, concern in his voice.

"I—I had a nightmare," she said in a small voice, pulling her knees up to her chin and shivering slightly. Harry sat up, too, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him.

"About what?" he asked.

Ginny didn't look at him. She couldn't tell him she dreamed about Blaise shagging her, or about to shag her with no protestations.

"The Chamber of Secrets," she replied.

Harry blinked at her. That had to be a nightmare.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No. No, that's all right, Harry," she said softly. "Let's just go back to sleep."

"Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"All right, then. Snuggle down. I'll protect you," he said, kissing her. Then they both scooted down in the bed, Harry's arms wrapped around her protectively.

He kissed her temple, then settled back in to sleep. He was out in two minutes.

Ginny lay in his embrace, her eyes shifting back and forth in the dark. The dream had been disturbing. She hadn't tried to reject Blaise at all. In fact, she had been into it even as she knew it was wrong.

What the hell was going on here? She wanted no parts of Blaise Zabini.

But the way her body was tingling, she knew it wasn't completely true.

And that troubled her. She loved Harry very much and planned to marry him one day. At least, she thought she loved him. Didn't she? How could she have a dream about Blaise if she did?

Maybe it was some kind of fluke, or a dream meaning something completely different than the obvious. Maybe Blaise shagging her had something to do with the way he'd screwed them with the demon last night. Yes, that could be it.

Ginny closed her eyes, hoping she'd found a feasible answer other than being secretly attracted to the dark wizard.

The alternative was just too disturbing.

_She is easy to manipulate. Her passionate nature will be her downfall._

_We can always use the chamber to open her up to our influence. How convenient._

* * *

Blaise woke up at five, did a few stretches, then put on his running shorts, socks, trainers and a white t-shirt. He tucked his wand in his sock, then left Boleskine house for his morning run.

It was a nice run, with a variety of terrains to keep it interesting. The air was moist and cool, just the way he liked it as he fell into his stride. Forty-seven acres gave him a lot of running room and soon he was covered in a sheen of sweat as he covered more and more ground.

As the dawn broke and the sky lightened, he passed the gardening shed, and saw someone walking around it. He didn't stop to investigate. It was probably the Muggle groundskeeper. He didn't do Muggles if he could help it.

* * *

Ron woke up and eased out of bed, heading for the kitchens again, feeling as if he hadn't eaten in days. He raided the refrigerator again, making another Weasley sandwich and preparing a large glass of milk to wash it down with. It should tide him over until breakfast.

* * *

Ginny awoke and decided she wanted a glass of water. She was still feeling antsy. She didn't bother putting on her housecoat. It was so early the whole house had to still be asleep. Leaving Harry sleeping peacefully, she exited the bedroom, padding up the entrance hall barefoot.

* * *

Blaise entered the utility room, covered in perspiration and breathing heavily. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his wet chocolate body, and well-developed chest and abs. He was lean and strong, with an athlete's build. There was nothing bulky about him as he wiped at himself with his balled up shirt, walking into the entrance hall. He stopped as he saw Ginny walking toward him in her nightgown, barefoot and her red hair tousled all over her head.

Ginny stopped when she saw him as well, looking at her with flared nostrils. His brown eyes shifted around the hall, looking to see if anyone else was up and about. Ginny felt as if there was a stone in her belly as the wizard began to purposely walk toward her, half-naked. His body was—awesome.

Ginny's feet wouldn't move and she couldn't find her voice as Blaise approached her, all male, his dark body glistening as if oiled, his stride confident and purposeful. His eyes were locked to hers and he licked his lips.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and Ron appeared with his sandwich, blocking Blaise's approach.

"Oi, Blaise. Going to get yourself a bite to eat?" he asked him.

Ginny seemed to snap out of her trance at Ron's appearance, but it felt as if she'd been running, her heart was beating so fast.

"No, just some water," Blaise said, turning off into the kitchen, silently cursing Ron.

Then Ron noticed Ginny.

"Hey, what are you doing up so early?" he asked her.

Ginny shrugged.

"I was going to get a drink of water," she said.

"Seems everyone's thirsty this morning," he replied, heading for his bedroom with his milk and sandwich. "I'll see you later."

Ron entered his bedroom and closed the door. Ginny stared at the kitchen, then turned around and headed back for her bedroom and the familiar, safe embrace of Harry's arms.

After all, what was in the kitchen wouldn't cool her off in the least.

* * *

Snape awoke to the sound of a machine outside. He quietly rolled out of bed and pulled aside the curtain, looking across the grounds. A man was riding on a lawnmower, mowing the terraced lawn in a careful pattern.

The groundskeeper.

Snape looked at Hermione, who was sleeping peacefully, then shrugged on his robes. He put on his socks and boots. He didn't wear any other clothing, because he was in a hurry and planned to come back quickly.

He exited the house and strode across the grounds toward the man.

The groundskeeper was wearing a Kango hat, a lightweight blue and white plaid shirt and brown trousers with suspenders. A bit of gray hair stuck out from under the hat, it was almost past his collar. Kind of long for an old man. He looked to be about sixty. He artfully turned the mower in a pattern as Snape approached.

Finally, Snape called to him.

"Hallo!"

The groundskeeper kept driving the mower.

"Hallo!" Snape called again, moving closer. But the man didn't seem to hear him over the mower engine.

Snape pulled out his wand, flicked it at the mower and quickly put it back. The mower died.

"Blast!" the old man said, getting off the mower and staring at it as if it purposely stopped running. "Bloody machine."

"Er—excuse me," Snape said walking up.

The man turned quite quickly, his blue eyes sharp as he took in the young wizard. He took out a kerchief and wiped his hands and then his brow.

"Who might you be?" the man growled at him.

"I'm Severus Snape. I'm currently occupying Boleskine House."

The groundskeeper looked him up and down.

"You look like one of Crowley's crowd, but you aren't that," he stated.

"No, I'm not," Snape replied. "But I will be conducting some—experiments while I'm here, and I'd prefer they stay clandestine.'

"Oh, you do, do you?" the groundskeeper replied.

"Yes."

Suddenly, a robin flew onto the mower and chirped at the groundskeeper, who gave the bird a little bow. It seemed to bow back at him, then cocked an eye at Snape, who thought it a bit odd. The robin let out another series of chirps, then flew away, the groundskeeper smiling after him.

Very odd.

The groundskeeper turned back to Snape and continued the conversation as if it hadn't been interrupted by a little bird.

"Well, I don't know how 'clandestine' anything you do will be, considering I watched you and your people floating boxes yesterday. You don't hide what you are well at all."

Snape's eyes widened.

"Then those monsters last night, you flying on a broom with a girl and those two turning into animals—"

"You—you saw all that and didn't report it to the authorities?" Snape asked him, wondering if he should Obliviate him now or later. He was leaning towards now.

"The authorities? Have no use for 'em. Besides, what could they do against it anyway? It's not like they have magic, is it?"

Snape just stared at him. The man walked up to him and offered him his hand.

"My name is Ben Weatherstaff," the old man said. "I've been a gardener for years and years. This isn't my first run-in with magic, you know. I once tended the gardens of a rich lord and his son and his niece used magic all the time. Not like you lot, but I've seen miraculous things. But, I can keep a secret. The question is if you can keep yourself a secret."

Snape scowled slightly as he shook Ben's hand. Why did that name sound so familiar? But there was something about the old man that felt safe.

"Where do you stay? On the grounds?" Snape asked him.

"No. Down the road a ways. Still Boleskine property though."

"So how did you get in?" Snape asked him.

"I let myself in the gate, the way I usually do," Ben replied.

"But—"

"But what?"

Snape blinked at him.

"Nothing," he said.

He'd have to go check the ward he'd put on the gate. Weatherstaff shouldn't have been able to go in or out.

"Did you have something to do with my mower going out?" Ben asked Snape.

Snape nodded.

"Well, bloody fix it. I want to get my work done before the sun gets too high," the old man snarked. He watched as Snape pulled out his wand and flicked it, starting the mower. He didn't even react to the display of magic. He just climbed on the mower.

"I put some fresh flowers in the kitchen," he shouted over the mower. "Nothing like fresh flowers in the kitchen."

Then, he began cutting again.

Snape watched him for a while, then turned and slowly walked back toward the house, his brow furrowed.

_Ben Weatherstaff._

He was certain he'd heard that name before—but how and why?

Maybe Hermione would know.

* * *

A/N: Hm. Ben Weatherstaff. Anyone hazard a guess about him? Thanks for reading.


	82. Realization

**Chapter 81 ~ Realization**

"Ben Weatherstaff? Oh, you have to be joking," Hermione said to Snape loftily as they sat at breakfast with the others.

He frowned at her slightly.

"That's the name he gave me, Hermione."

"Well, Ben Weatherstaff is a fictional character from Frances Hodgson Burnett's book, 'The Secret Garden.' He's not a real person."

"Maybe that's just his name," Susan suggested, trying to keep the peace. "It could be a coincidence that he's a gardener."

Snape remembered the storyline of the book.

"He said he once tended gardens at a manor, and the children there did magic—"

"Severus, you can't be that stupid to believe he's the real Ben Weatherstaff! That's a fairytale. Honestly, what's wrong with you? Don't you have a brain?"

Everyone blinked at Hermione. She was being very rude.

"I'm going to get more juice," Susan said, rising and walking over to the fridge.

Snape frowned at Hermione, displeasure in his dark eyes as everyone else continued eating, Blaise smirking slightly.

He'd never realized what an arrogant bitch Hermione was. Draco listened to Hermione talk down to Snape with some surprise. Why was he taking that from her? Harry was shaking his head slightly as he ate his eggs. Hermione was acting like a—git. Ginny was silent, barely registering what was going on because she was so deep in her own thoughts.

"Besides, even if he were real, he'd be dead by now," Hermione added. "He's probably just joking with you, pulling your leg, Severus. Some people are like that. I can't believe you're so gullible."

Then—she laughed at him.

Snape's mouth was in a tight line now. He hated being laughed at.

"I can't believe you're so arrogant," he said in a low voice.

Hermione laughed again as Susan set a pitcher of juice on the island and sat down, looking extremely uncomfortable as Ron raked the last of the sausages into his plate. There had been five on the platter.

Harry frowned at him. He'd only had one banger. Greedy bastard.

Hermione continued.

"It's only arrogance if you're wrong. I'm not wrong. Now, enough about fictional gardeners. He said he can keep a secret, so we're fine. Now, we have to focus on getting your lab set up. I've already come up with the perfect design—"

"I already know how I want to set up my lab," Snape said tightly.

Hermione snorted.

"It'll be a disaster if it's like your lab at Hogwarts. You have no idea about proper equipment placement. My design will have everything in the most strategic positions."

She reached into her pocket and produced a drawing, waving it in front of Snape's nose.

"See, it's very easy to follow. I'm going to be working in the lab, too, and I don't want to be running all over the place when I need something."

Snape's black eyes followed the waving paper. Suddenly, he grabbed it from Hermione and ripped it into little pieces.

"What are you doing? I worked hard on that!" Hermione yelled at him.

Blaise smiled broadly now. Maybe wands would come out.

"Hermione, I invited you here to work with me, not take over," Snape said to her coldly. "I know how I want to set my lab up. You can have some input, but you're not going to arbitrarily tell me what to do!"

"Well, you're going to do it all wrong, Severus! You should listen to me. I'm smarter than you are—than everyone here in fact! I'm much better suited to design the lab than you are."

Everyone blinked at Hermione. Ron frowned around his food and chewed faster so he could say something. He swallowed.

"Look, Hermione, it's fine if you want to argue with Snape, but don't bring us into it. We all know you're smart. We know about your marks. You don't have to rub our noses in it. Besides, he's right. It's his lab. He should be able to set it up the way he likes."

Snape was looking at Hermione oddly. What was wrong with her? She didn't act like this before. Like such a know-it-all bitch, bragging about how smart she was.

"Are you getting your monthly?" he asked her, thinking she might be experiencing some female discomfort or something.

"What? What? How dare you—"

Then she slapped him and jumped up from the table, running out of the kitchen.

"Looks like there's trouble in Paradise," Blaise said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, then scooting his stool back from the table and standing up. Ginny gave him a quick glance before looking down at her plate again, frowning slightly as he left the kitchen.

"She probably is having her monthly," Ron said as Susan frowned at him. "That's all I can think it could be. I've never seen her act like this before. She's been annoying, spouting off facts and such, but she's never talked down to us before. Something's wrong."

"Still, you shouldn't ever ask a woman if she's having her monthly," Susan said softly. "It's insulting, especially if she's mad about something."

"I'll keep that in mind next time," Snape said, his cheek red and stinging. He slid his stool back and stood up.

"I'll be down in the cellar," he said to everyone. "Unpacking."

"We'll join you in a bit, Severus," Harry said to him, giving him a small, supportive smile.

"Thanks," Snape replied, leaving the kitchen.

"Wow, Hermione certainly was acting like a bit—" Ron began the moment the door closed.

Susan stopped him.

"We're not going to sit here and talk about Hermione behind her back, Ron. So, just stop now," Susan said, her brown eyes hard. She hated when people did that.

"I was just saying—"

"Don't."

Ron looked exasperated as Susan scowled at him.

"All right, but could you make me some more bangers and eggs, Susan? And maybe some beans?"

Harry looked at him incredulously.

"Ron, you just ate all the bloody bangers. Hardly anyone else got any," the boy who lived said angrily.

"I'm hungry, Harry," Ron whined. "It's like I'm bottomless."

Susan stood up and walked over to the fridge.

"If you keep eating like this, Ron, we're going to have to restock soon," she said, opening the door and taking out more bangers and eggs.

"That's all right. It's on Draco's dad's tab anyway, isn't it?" Ron asked, looking at Draco, who frowned at him.

"Yes, it is. But that doesn't mean you can tear through the food like you have a tapeworm, Weasley, which I suspect you have. You're a pig," the pureblood said. "I've never seen anyone eat like you. You're worse here than you were at Hogwarts."

"Well, it might have something to do with all the extra activity," Ron replied, cutting his blue eyes at Susan and grinning a bit lasciviously. Susan blushed but didn't say anything.

Draco shook his head and stood up. The last thing he wanted to imagine was Ron humping his fat cow of a girlfriend.

He left the kitchen.

Ginny stood up.

"Susan, I'll wash the plates left behind," she told Susan, who thanked her.

"Wait a minute," Ron said, plucking Hermione's cold half-eaten banger off her plate. He shoved it into his mouth as Ginny shook her head. Harry was looking at him with a disgusted expression.

"You're such a glutton, Ron."

* * *

Once outside, Hermione stalked across the grounds. She was still angry at Severus for tearing up her lab plans and asking her if she were on her period in front of everyone. Git!

Last night, while Severus slept, Hermione woke up with an urge to draw a lab design. She got more and more into it and was very proud of the finished product. She was sure Severus would never come up with such a perfect layout of equipment and would appreciate it. It all seemed to make so much sense, then.

And when he told her about the gardener, Hermione just felt he was being so thick, so—dumb. It was just so obvious, she had to say something. He had to be smarter than to believe he met a fictional character. His gullibility was funny to her, hilarious in fact.

When he tore up her design, she was furious! He didn't even look to see how perfect it was. How well thought-out and perfect. He just—dismissed it as if he were smarter than she was and could do a better design. Well, he wasn't smarter. She was currently the smartest witch in the wizarding world. She should be listened to and looked up to. People should hang on her every word—

Hermione stopped walking. This wasn't her. She didn't think like this. Of course Severus wouldn't want to follow her plans. He knew what was best for his brewing techniques. She didn't have any right to try and take over and force her ideas on him. Suggestions, yes. But to order him around? No.

And bragging about how smart she was? She'd never done anything like that before. There were things more important than books and cleverness, and she'd always believed that, even when she was cramming for the NEWTs and holding everyone at bay.

And she'd slapped Severus. He did deserve it, but she had brought him to that point, laughing at him and calling him stupid in front of everyone. That was so not like her.

Hermione stopped and sat down on a large, decorative rock to think. It was as if she were acting like another person. She rubbed her temples and stared across the landscape, not seeing it at all as she focused on her actions.

The demons of Boleskine House were insidious, but they were confined to the house itself, and their influence lessened when a person left the house unless the corruption had completely settled in. So, Hermione's head was clearing.

For the demons, that probably wasn't a good thing.

* * *

Severus, Harry, Ron and Blaise were unpacking boxes of equipment when suddenly the cellar door flew open.

"Severus! Come outside!" Hermione called down.

Snape frowned and didn't answer her as he kept unpacking.

"Severus! I need to talk to you," Hermione called again. "But I have to do it outside. Please!"

"I'm busy," he called up.

"Oh, Severus. I'm sorry for what happened at breakfast this morning, but please, come outside. I have to tell you something important. It's about the demons."

"There aren't any demons," Snape said, but he stopped unpacking, as did everyone else.

"But there are. I'm nearly certain. Please, come outside."

Snape walked up the stairs and looked at Hermione with a frown.

"What?" he said snarkily.

"Severus, I think there are demons in Boleskine house. I think they aren't the kind we're used to, but something else. Something sneaky, that influences us. That brings out the worst in us. Severus, you know I'd never just try and take over—or call you stupid, or laugh at you. Not normally."

Snape's frown lessened.

"You haven't before—" he said softly. "Especially laugh at me. You—you reminded me of Lily a bit—"

"But I'm nothing like Lily. You know that, Severus. There's something going on here. Think about it. That wasn't me at breakfast. I'd never put down my friends or embarrass you that way. I'm sure there's influencing going on. We need to examine everyone, to find out if they are—are changing in some way—"

"I'll be right back," Ron called up. "I'm going to get a sandwich."

"Ron, you just finished breakfast an hour ago," Harry complained.

"Weasley," Snape said suddenly. "He's eating like crazy, becoming more of a glutton than usual."

"Gluttony," Hermione said softly. "One of the seven sins. And me, that was arrogance. Pride."

Snape blinked at her.

"Sins?" he said.

"Yes, of course. Don't you see? Crowley was working with the forces of Light and Darkness. These aren't garden variety demons, the kind that leap out of books and carry you away, or even elemental demons. These demons are—are forces of evil. They are faith-based. There are different rules for them. We couldn't detect them with our magic because they aren't magical beings. They're supernatural. There's a difference."

Snape stared at her, then looked back at Boleskine House. Suddenly, it had a rather sinister aura that hadn't been there before.

"We have to set everyone down and find out if they've been experiencing anything, any feelings out of the ordinary—and—and we need to get sand from the Loch," Hermione told Snape.

"Sand?"

"Yes, and spread it over the terrace. That's what Crowley did. If there are demons here, or any supernatural forces, they are supposed to leave footprints."

Snape looked doubtful. Footprints?

"I'm telling you, Severus, there's something evil in this house, something our magic won't work on. And we won't be able to work here until whatever it is, is banished.

"But you said our magic doesn't work on them," Snape said to her.

"No. We're going to have to use Crowley's magic. We're going to have to finish the Abra-Melin ritual the Muggle way. Either that, or find another location," Hermione responded.

Snape looked around the beautiful grounds, then back at Hermione.

"I don't want to leave here," he said softly.

"Then, we won't," Hermione said, giving Snape a small smile before walking up and embracing him.

"Blech," Blaise said as he looked out at them. "What a wimp."

Harry craned his neck and saw the couple hugging, and smiled.

It seemed they'd made up.

* * *

"I warned you that consorting with those beneath your social strata would be a trial, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said through the magic mirror his son held in his hand. "They don't show proper deference for their betters. They believe we're all 'equal.'"

Lucius wore a look of distaste as he said the word.

"You're absolutely right, Father. The Hufflepuff wouldn't even fix me a meal last night. Weasley told me to do it myself. Can you imagine?"

Lucius shook his head.

"Barbarians," he replied. "I will work on getting you a personal servant, Draco. But House-Elves won't set foot in the place. Have you seen anything?"

Draco shook his head.

"No, there aren't any demons," he answered.

"Strange," Lucius mused. "But I will try and get you a servant immediately. No Malfoy—cooks."

"Thank you, Father," Draco replied and the mirror went dark.

He was supposed to be helping unpack boxes, but—that was manual labor. He knew he'd said he would help, but really, that wasn't the type of activity that a wizard of his background was supposed to indulge in. When his servant arrived, he'd do the work.

_Pampered._

_Spoiled._

_Slothful._

_Perfect._

* * *

A/N: Good old Hermione. :) Thanks for reading.


	83. Vices and Virtues

**Chapter 82 ~ Vices and Virtues**

"But we've searched the house top to bottom for demons, Hermione. We didn't find any trace of anything evil," Susan said as they sat outside, eating their lunch.

Draco looked sullen. He had been relaxing in bed when Snape came to get him. Snape didn't say a word about his skiving off. He simply told him lunch would be served outside of Boleskine house, on the lawn.

"I want my meal sent here," the pureblood said, not moving.

Snape looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Draco, your father may be my patron, but you're not going to be waited on hand and foot. If you want to eat, you'll come outside," the wizard said, leaving with an aggravated billow of robes.

He didn't have time for Draco's airs right now.

"The evil is only detectable by our actions," Hermione explained. "They bring out the worst in us. This morning, you have to admit I was acting out of character the way I attacked Severus and talked down to all of you—"

Ron had a sandwich in each hand, taking turns biting out of each one as he greedily eyed the other food set out as if he couldn't wait to finish his food and go for more. There was an unhealthy tinge to his skin from consuming too much. He might feel bottomless, but he wasn't and there was a price to pay for constantly filling up and not giving the body enough time to digest and process food.

"And look at Ron, how he's eating. He's never eaten like this before," Hermione continued. Ron looked around at everyone, then lowered his eyes and kept eating. Harry was frowning at him thoughtfully. Ginny looked at him, too, her eyes troubled. Susan looked very worried. Blaise seemed as if he could care less as he ate his sandwich. Draco looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else than here with these—these underlings. Snape was quiet and sober as Hermione continued.

"Listen, immediately after I left Boleskine House, I felt so angry at everyone. I felt as if my work was perfect, I was perfect, I was—was so important—so much better than everyone else. I believed that I was the only one worth listening to in the entire wizarding world and that only fools wouldn't listen to me—"

Hermione turned red with embarrassment.

"I really felt like that and that Severus deserved the treatment I gave him because he was an idiot—"

She looked at Snape and quickly said, "Sorry" as he gave her a little glower.

"But after a few minutes I was able to think clearly about what I'd said and done, and it wasn't me at all. It was like there was a spell on me, but no one put a spell on me and I felt better once I left the house. The influence must be in there."

"So why is Weasley still being such a pig, then?" Draco asked, his handsome face screwed up in disgust as he looked at Ron. "He's not in the house."

"Maybe, maybe it's set in deeply already, because Ron was already a glutton when he came here. Maybe it was easier to get it to come out of him. I—we believe that what's coming out of us has to do with the seven sins, because Crowley was tampering with real, supernatural demons, or creatures of Light and Dark. They aren't the same as our magical demons. These are—are warring creatures that—that turn people to darkness. That's their job."

Blaise snorted.

"You mean that myth about devils and angels? Phppt. I don't believe any of it. There's magical creatures—I can see them, but there's no evidence of any kind of creator other than a couple of old books some dead Muggles wrote years ago," he said witheringly. "The best thing about it is Christmas. That's it."

"It doesn't matter what you believe, Blaise, the point is, something is in that house that's affecting us, bringing out the worst parts of us. For me, my pride and arrogance was enhanced. I am a little proud of my accomplishments, I have to admit that. So, that's what was influenced. Fortunately, it made me act strangely enough to be instantly noticed as being out of character. Has anyone else besides Ron and I that have been experiencing anything out of the ordinary? Strange feelings or urges?"

Everyone was silent and Ginny looked down at the food.

Hermione looked around, and her eyes fell on Draco.

"Draco, you didn't help at all today, and you've been wanting people to wait on you," she said to him.

Draco scowled at her.

"So, I want to be treated in the manner I'm accustomed to. I'm no common laborer and I have servants to take care of my needs," he shot back at her loftily. "My father is paying for all of this, so why should I do anything?"

Snape's eyes narrowed at him.

"But that wasn't your attitude when you asked me if you could come," he told Draco. "You said you wanted to help me set up my lab and face the demons."

"I did face demons, thanks to Blaise," Draco replied. "As for the rest of it, I just changed my mind. But don't worry. My father's going to send me a servant and he'll do the work."

Ron managed to talk between bites.

"Draco, you git. You're no better than the rest of us."

"I AM better than the rest of you," Draco snarled at him. "Every one of you!"

Blaise looked at Draco, thinking there was indeed something wrong with him. He wasn't the insufferable prat he'd been in his younger years. He'd mellowed. That was how they became friends in the first place. But now?

"Listen to yourself, Draco. You sound as if you hate us, but just last night you tried to save Harry and Ginny from that earth demon Blaise sent after them," Hermione said.

"So, Draco turned into a prat overnight?" Harry asked her.

"He was always a prat," Ron said around a pumpkin pastie as the pureblood gave him a hateful look.

"Stop the name calling. We have more important things to think about. I think Draco has been influenced quicker because for years he really felt like that and only recently has really come around. The demons didn't have to work so hard because it was still close to the surface," Hermione said. "Now, what about the rest of you?"

"I feel fine," Blaise said.

The demons hadn't bothered with influencing Blaise, because he was already dark-natured and full of feelings of pride, lust and anger. They just let nature take its course in his case. He was already on the dark road to evil.

Harry's green eyes shifted toward him, then toward Ginny, who had been silent the entire time.

"Harry, how about you?" Hermione asked him suddenly.

"No, I don't feel anything influencing me," he said honestly.

"Susan?"

Susan shrugged.

"No. But I am worried about Ron," she said softly, looking at her beau still stuffing his face.

"Worry isn't a sin," Hermione replied, then she looked at Snape.

"Severus?"

Snape shrugged.

"I haven't felt any different," he said to her. "Except I was very angry with you earlier."

"That's natural. You had a right to be angry," she said to him softly before turning on Ginny.

"How about you, Ginny? Have you been feeling anything out of the ordinary?

"No," she said in a near whisper. Harry frowned at her. He could tell she wasn't being completely truthful, but he didn't want to call her on it in front of everyone.

Hermione looked around at all of them, then let out a long sigh.

"All right. It could be that the demon's influence affected those easiest to manipulate at first, and they will slowly work on the rest of you once they have their claws or whatever they have, in us. I had hoped we wouldn't have to do this, but we're going to have to identify what sins would fit us. Then, we'll have an idea what to watch for."

"What? Identify sins? How are we supposed to do that?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well, we're going to have to go on what we know about each other," Hermione said softly. "It won't be pleasant and might even make for bad feelings for a bit, but you have to remember we aren't saying any of us are really like this, but—but have sort of an inclination toward it. Something that might be used by the demons. We'll just pick someone and-well—say what we think their sin would be if it were pronounced. All right?"

Everyone murmured a weak agreement. Hermione straightened and cleared her throat.

"Okay. The seven sins are as follows, but not necessarily in this order. No sin is better or worse than any other. Just keep that in mind. Here they are: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride."

Everyone listened carefully, then looked around at each other. Susan cleared her throat a bit and Hermione looked at her.

"Yes, Susan?"

"Well, I was just thinking, Hermione, if these are evil influences that focus on the worst parts of us, what about the best part of us—our virtues. Shouldn't we try to identify those as well, because, those might help us and take the sting out of naming the bad things."

Hermione blinked at her.

"That's brilliant, Susan! Our virtues could be protection for us in some way!" Hermione exclaimed as Susan helplessly flushed with pleasure at the praise. But, she was always thinking of the positive in every situation. It was how she'd gotten by all those years of being teased over her weight by thoughtless people.

"She's brilliant," Ron said proudly around another pastie.

"All right. So, we won't just identify the vices, but the virtues, too. The seven virtues are Chastity, Temperance, Charity, Diligence, Patience, Kindness, and Humility."

"Well, you can count the first one out with you birds," Blaise said with a nasty smirk as all the witches blushed.

"Shut up, Blaise!" Ginny hissed at him.

Blaise gave her a measuring look.

"Strike a little chord, Weasley?" he purred at her. "Would lust be one of your little secret vices? Have a little itch you want scratched?"

Harry leapt up off the ground and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Blaise.

"You watch how you talk to my girlfriend, Blaise," he snarled.

"Harry, stop it," Hermione said softly, although her eyes were hard as she looked at Blaise. "As crude as he is, he has a point. I don't think any of us have the virtue of Chastity. So, inversely, we probably all have a bit of lust. Every one of us."

All the witches nodded, Ginny glaring at Blaise as Harry pocketed his wand and sat back down, putting an arm around Ginny's shoulder as Blaise smirked at them. He didn't mean all-around lust when he was talking to Ginny, he meant lust for him. He could have shagged her this morning if her idiot brother hadn't shown up. He could have taken her right to his room—

"Has—has anyone had any pronounced sexual feelings, I mean, something out of the ordinary?"

Everyone shook their heads. There was lust, but pretty normal lust for teenagers.

"All right, but lust should be applied to all of us anyway, since we are all sexually active."

"Even Draco and Blaise?" Ron asked with a nasty smile as he spread a bit of jam on a thick slice of bread. "They make a nice couple."

"Shut up, Weasley. At least I'm not into bestiality," Draco hissed at him.

"What?" Ron asked, his blue eyes darkening. He stopped making his bread and jam.

"Bestiality. You're sleeping with a cow after all," the pureblood hissed. "Not hard to know her sin. It's the same as yours. Gluttony."

Ron launched himself at Draco, both wizards grappling and swinging wildly as Harry and Snape rushed over to break them up.

"Ron! Stop it! Stop it!" Susan cried as Ron socked Draco hard in the mouth.

Harry and Snape pulled them apart.

"Don't you ever talk about my girlfriend again, Malfoy, or I'll knock out all of your teeth, you barmy Billy no-mates!" a struggling Ron yelled at him.

Draco shrugged free of Snape and wiped at his mouth. His lip was bleeding. He looked at Ron murderously.

"You can dish it out, but can't take it, Weasley," he snarled.

"If you have a problem with me, then deal with me. You leave my girlfriend out of it, you prat!"

Blaise didn't say anything about Ron's comment. Hell, it was to be expected really, since they were the only two wizards there without girlfriends. He simply let it roll off of him, like Draco should have done.

"I'm not standing here and taking this. I'm going back to Boleskine House," Draco declared, turning and stalking back to the house.

"But, Draco! The demons!" Hermione called after him.

"They'll be better company than you lot," he called back, not slowing his stride.

"Let him go, Hermione. The influence on him is more annoying than anything," Snape said.

They then decided Draco's sins. Pride, Sloth and maybe Greed. But he was already rich, so they weren't sure about that.

"Any virtues?" Hermione asked them.

Everyone looked around, but no one said anything at first.

Susan suddenly said, "Diligence?"

Ron scowled at her.

Hermione took it up.

"Well, I suppose he does have that. Draco does persevere in his way. He can be very determined," she admitted.

"Determined to be a bloody plonker," Ron seethed.

"Still, it's a virtue," Hermione said with finality.

"I—I think I'm guilty of pride," Harry offered. "I mean, sometimes I like all the fuss over me, and people noticing me. Calling me the savior of the wizarding world. I know it's not right, but it's the truth."

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry with a little sympathy. It was easy to see he was ashamed of himself. Hermione and Ron were also a bit guilty about liking to be recognized from time to time, although more Ron than Hermione.

"Well, you have Humility too, Harry. And Kindness, and Charity," Hermione told him softly. "And let's not forget Diligence."

Blaise thought he'd bring up his lunch. Saint Potter. Gods.

"All right. I'm lustful, angry, proud and diligent," Blaise said, having no qualms about sharing his lesser traits. They were quite apparent after all, well, except for the lustfulness, and he'd rather say what he was than let these gits judge him. "And I don't need any enhancements. I know what I am and it works for me. So, I'm out of here."

Blaise walked back toward the house. No one said anything to stop him. No doubt he'd get along with the demons just fine. They probably wouldn't affect him at all.

"There goes a man who knows himself," Snape said, then. "Now me."

Everyone looked at Severus, not knowing what to say about him as a young wizard. When he was older, he seemed to have a multitude of sins.

"I—I really don't know what to say, Severus," Hermione admitted. "You're an angel compared to how you used to be as an adult."

"Okay, then list my sins as an adult," he suggested.

Everyone thought about it and was startled to discover that they couldn't apply any sins to him as an adult, snarky bastard that he was. Well, there was one thing.

"Wrath," Hermione said. "You were always angry. But—that's it. There's nothing else that applies to you. And you're not even angry now."

Snape took this in.

"So, I'm perfect?" he asked her with a smile.

Hermione snorted.

"Hardly. But I don't think you'll give the demons much to work with," she said to him softly. She hadn't been aware just how—how good he was overall.

"You can add pride to it. He's always showing off when he's in Gryffin form," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at Snape.

"Oh, yeah. That is right. You're always arching your neck, spreading your wings, strutting about—"

Snape shrugged.

"Can I help it if I'm beautiful?" he purred at her.

"Pride," Hermione said with finality.

"And my virtues?" Snape pressed. This was rather interesting.

"I think Diligence and Kindness, even if it's a snarky kind of Kindness," Hermione said, looking at everyone to see if they agreed. They did.

Next, they went to Ginny.

"I don't know. I think only general lust applies to Ginny," Hermione said.

"Envy," Ginny said softly. "I've always been jealous that I wasn't one of the Trio, and that I didn't go on the adventures you all did. I still get a little jealous when you all are recognized and I'm not. I'm just the girlfriend of Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley's little sister."

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione said softly.

"Honesty is a virtue," Snape said to the witch, "even if it's not listed."

She looked at him and gave him a small smile, which Snape returned. Harry put an arm around her and pulled her close.

"You'll always be someone special to me, Ginny," he said, kissing her cheek.

Susan sighed, smiling at them.

"You're kind, too, Ginny. And charitable, and diligent," Hermione said. She couldn't give her temperance or patience because Ginny had quite the temper. Humility wasn't high on the list although she didn't act proud. It just didn't appear to be part of her nature for some reason.

"My turn," Susan said softly, reddening slightly.

"Well, Draco was wrong about you. You aren't a glutton. You don't eat any more than I do," Hermione said. "Maybe even less. In fact, Susan—I don't think you have any vices."

"Everyone has vices, Hermione," Susan replied, embarrassed. "No one's perfect."

"I'm not saying you're perfect, but you don't seem to have anything glaring. Of course, there's the lust factor—but we all have that. And you have all the virtues except Chastity. The demons probably can't do much to influence you at all. It's just not in you."

"I—I might have envy," Susan admitted. "Sometimes—sometimes I wish I were thinner, more like everyone else—"

Ron almost spit out the cookie he was eating.

"What! You're beautiful, Susan. You don't have to envy anyone. People should be envious of you!" he exclaimed. "You're a genuinely good person. There aren't many of those!"

"Oh, Ron," Susan said to him, smiling despite herself.

"I don't know if it's envy to occasionally wish something different about yourself, Susan. I think it would be envy if you disliked thinner people because of your size and wanted the things they have. I don't think it's like that with you," Hermione said.

Susan shook her head.

"No, it's not," she said softly. "I'm happy with the way things are."

She looked at Ron fondly.

"I don't think Envy is one of your vices, Susan. You're the best one out of us all, I think."

Susan softly demurred, but everyone's attention turned on Ron, who stopped chewing his cookie.

"I know. I'm a glutton," he said, his voice slightly garbled from the food in his mouth. "And I'm guilty of pride too, for the same reason as Harry. I like being recognized. And definitely lustful."

He looked at Susan, who blushed. She did that a lot.

Snape thought that one of Ron's virtues was just like Ginny's. Honesty. He could be a git, but he was usually very honest about what he thought.

"You're diligent too, Ron, and you can be kind," Hermione stated.

"He's patient too," Susan added.

Hermione had to admit in some situations, Ron was patient, but not in all of them. He had been very patient with her when they went out. But normally, he was reactionary. Like what happened with Draco just now.

"He can be patient, Susan, but he's really not that patient. It depends on the situation. I think in more personal situations he's more—understanding. But not overall," Hermione said diplomatically. "He just pummeled Draco after all."

"He asked for it," Ron seethed, getting mad again.

Susan admitted Hermione was right. Ron could fly off the handle quickly.

"All right. We've got through that. Now, we have to do some things to protect ourselves. First, we have to leave Boleskine house itself. Especially those most affected by the demons. Ron, you really have to leave," Hermione said to the redhead. "We don't have to leave the grounds, though. Just the house."

"What? Leave the fridge?"

"Ron, you're going to make yourself sick. You don't look too good now as a matter of fact. Your body wasn't made to constantly digest food. It needs a break now and then."

Ron looked sullen.

"But, the food."

"Ron, I'm going to make you a batch of my diet cookies," Susan told him. "You have to stop eating, really. They'll make it easier."

"You'd better make them extra strength," Harry advised her. Ron's stomach was absolutely bulging and he still wanted to eat.

Ron scowled at him, and Harry grinned.

"We can use the Gate House, and there's another gate house on the grounds. Not as nice, but it's habitable," Hermione said. "I think the witches should stay together in one house and the wizards in another, since each house has only one bedroom. Someone can bunk out in the living rooms and two people share each bedroom.

"Noooo," Ron groaned, looking at Susan as if she'd already left him.

"What about Blaise and Draco?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shrugged.

"I think they'll want to stay in Boleskine house. They went back after all," she replied. "They can take the boat house if they decide to leave, but I don't think they will."

"So, we're going to abandon the house for the time being?" Harry asked.

"No. We'll be able to enter there for short periods of time, but when we start to feel influenced, we can leave. But I think Ron needs to just stay out for a couple of days, because the influence is so strong."

"Bloody hell," Ron complained.

"Everyone's going to have to cook for themselves for now," Hermione said.

Susan didn't like this.

"I can still make meals," she offered. "We'll just alternate where we have them. Both houses have kitchens and fridges."

Susan loved cooking for everyone. It made her feel useful and happy when people enjoyed her food.

Hermione understood.

"All right, Susan, if you don't mind."

"I don't," Susan assured her.

"So, how are we going to handle the demons, Hermione?" Snape asked her. He was extremely proud at how she pulled everything together and made sense out of it all. She was a brilliant witch well beyond her marks. No wonder they defeated Voldemort. She was a one-witch army.

"Well, I've got to read up on the ritual," she said, "but I think when the time comes, the two purest of us might have to do the actual banishing. Apparently, that's Harry and Susan. They have the most virtues, so more than likely the most defense against the demons. We don't know what they'll throw at us, but more than likely they'll fight to stay. Any weaknesses in us will be exploited, I'm sure. But, I have to look into it first."

"And we won't be using magic?" Harry asked her.

"Not our magic," Hermione replied. "Muggle magic."

"That's not comforting at all," Harry breathed.

"I know it's not, Harry, but it's what we're going to have to do if Severus is going to stay here," Hermione said. "But, you don't have to do it. We'll manage if you want to go—"

"No! I want to help. It's just going to be strange using Muggle techniques," he said.

"And dangerous," Snape added, looking thoughtful.

"Danger? We laugh in the face of danger," Hermione said with a smile.

After Voldemort, how bad could a few demons be?

They'd find out.

"Now, we need to get some sand up to Boleskine house and see if the demons will leave their mark."

The group rose and began walking towards the Loch and the beach full of fine sand.

From the trees, Ben Weatherstaff watched them go, his blue eyes curious.

"What are they up to now?" he wondered as the robin flew down and landed on his shoulder, chirping at him.

Ben's brow furrowed as he listened.

"Let's hope not," he replied.

* * *

A/N: Fun chappie to write. A long one, too. I just couldn't stop writing. Lol. I think chapters with interactions can be like that. I hope it didn't get boring with so much conversation. I remember how exasperated I got with DH when Harry and Voldemort were facing off. I was like, "Stop talking already!!" Hermione's virtues will be extolled next chapter. Thanks for reading.


	84. Confrontation

**Chapter 83 ~ Confrontation**

Ben watched as several wheelbarrows full of sand from the Loch flew through the air and into Boleskine house, followed by Snape, Harry and Ron. He shook his head.

"It's a wonder this lot hasn't been burned at the stake by the parishioners yet," he muttered to himself.

The groundskeeper had no idea Snape had placed an illusion around the perimeter of the fence surrounding the property. No matter what activity was going on behind the gates, the grounds would seem empty and serene. Only those on the property could see what was truly happening.

Robin was much more curious about the going-ons, so flew to the house and stood on a window ledge to get a better view, cocking his head and chirping as the sand was taken inside. Harry, Ron and Snape were doing the heavy work as the witches set up both gatehouses for occupation.

Robin flew inside after the wizards and stopped outside of the drawing room, alighting on a small ornate table resting against a wall.

"Hey, there's a bird in here," Ron said as Robin looked at him and gave a friendly chirp.

Snape glanced at the robin.

"That's the bird that was with Ben Weatherstaff," he said as they walked quickly outside, directing the empty wheelbarrows before them with their wands.

"Can't be a wild bird, not coming in here like that," Harry observed as they exited the house.

Robin flew to the floor, hopped up to the entrance to the drawing room and looked in. The doors were opened on the terrace and sand was scattered across the stone tile, not yet evenly spread. Suddenly, Robin squawked and started, all aflutter as he flew out of the entrance hall as fast as his wings could carry him. He skimmed Ron's head closely as he passed.

"Hey! Bloody bird!" Ron shouted after him, smoothing down his hair.

"It looks like something spooked it," Harry said.

Snape simply shrugged. Something probably did.

* * *

Hermione, Susan and Ginny cleaned up the gatehouse their beaus would occupy. It was rather bare looking, but they were wizards. They didn't need fancy, pretty surroundings. All they needed was a place to eat and sleep. The electricity worked and all they needed now was to stock the fridge. Susan was given the job of getting the supplies because she would be doing most of the cooking, although some healthy snacks would be included.

Susan walked to Boleskine house and into the kitchen. She had just opened the door when she heard a low and rather sinister voice say, "Why are you in the master's victuals?"

Susan blinked and turned around, shocked. Standing before her was a swarthy goblin with narrowed eyes, a long nose, huge thin hands and big bare feet with the toenails curling under. It wore a suit.

"The master's victuals?" Susan repeated.

"Yes. Master Draco's food," the goblin replied.

Oh. This must be the servant Draco had told them about.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr—" Susan began.

"Sharptooth. Just—Sharptooth," the goblin said with a rather chilling smile that showed why he was called that. He had a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth.

"Sharptooth. The food here is communal. It does not belong to Draco. Actually, Draco is nothing more than a guest here," the witch said.

"Still, the master has need of food. If you take any, it will leave him with less. I am supposed to look out for his needs first and foremost."

"Well, then you are just going to have to go shopping," Susan told the goblin, opening the fridge.

Suddenly, the goblin snarled and leapt in front of Susan, threatening her.

Ron, Harry and Snape started when they heard a loud bang sound from the kitchen. Draco ran out of his room as well, all converging on the kitchen.

"Susan!" Ron cried, streaking in. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ron. I don't think Sharptooth is though."

Draco gasped as he saw the legs of his servant sticking up out of the trash bin, kicking wildly.

Draco turned red and ran over to the bin.

"What did you do to my servant, you cow?" he yelled at Susan. Harry and Snape had to grab Ron by his arms.

"Your servant tried to attack me. He wouldn't let me take any food for the gatehouses. So—I defended myself," Susan said calmly, although her eyes were narrowed as she watched Draco pull the goblin out of the trash.

It looked at Susan sullenly.

"You'll get more than that if you try anything like that again, Sharptooth," Susan warned him.

"You won't do anything to my servant. I forbid it!" Draco hissed at her.

Both of Susan's eyebrows rose.

"Forbid it? Are you insane, Draco? You can't order me around like a peon! If your goblin tries anything else, he's going to get a lot more than stuffed into a trash bin. And if you don't like it, we can cross wands, too," Susan said angrily.

Everyone was surprised. Susan was usually so mellow. She looked at Draco steadily, and the pureblood could tell she meant business.

Ron's mouth dropped open as he stared at his girlfriend. Gods, Susan was so hot when she was angry. He felt a little pulse in his trousers as she faced off fearlessly with Draco. Oh, he had to get a shag ASAP..

"If you want food, buy it," Susan added, tucking her wand into her pocket and removing food from the fridge, putting it on the island. "This food is for everyone."

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Draco snarled at her.

Susan suddenly pulled out her wand and pointed it at the fridge. She murmured a spell and everyone watched as every bit of food inside it flew out and formed a line mid-air. Susan walked away, opened the kitchen door and flicked her wand at the victuals, murmuring something else.

The line of food began drifting through the door, down the entrance hall and out the front door. She did the same thing to the pantry, taking every bit of food. Once the last of the food floated out the kitchen, she turned to Draco.

"Now," she said to Draco, her brown eyes hard, "you can provide ALL your own food."

"You don't have the authority to tell me that!" he yelled at Susan, who just walked out of the kitchen, following the food. It was on its way to the gatehouse.

"No, but I do," Snape said quietly, frowning at Draco. "You brought it on yourself, Draco. If you want to eat, you'll either come to the gatehouse or go get your own supplies. Your invitation is wearing thin as well."

Draco frowned at Snape. He could ask him to leave Boleskine house and he would have to do it. His father was investing quite a bit of money in him, and wanted Snape in the best of moods.

"Fine. I will get my own food," Draco said sullenly.

Ron was staring at the door Susan walked through, his blue eyes glazed. Wow. She was a real tiger—

The next moment, he was through the door, pursuing her. Snape continued to address Draco.

"Don't expect to sit on your arse, either. We need help spreading the sand on the terrace," he said.

"I'll send Sharptooth," Draco replied.

The goblin looked up at Draco, its dark face contorting.

"I was hired as a personal servant. I'm not being paid to do manual labor with others. Only to take care of your needs. Spreading sand on a terrace isn't a need," the goblin said in a surly voice.

Draco blinked down at him, outrage on his face.

"But, you're my servant!"

"You must have mistaken me for a house-elf. I am your servant, not your slave and there's a difference in service. I accepted this position because the pay was lucrative and I felt I could see to the needs of one spoiled wizard. But I will not do any manual labor outside of your care and upkeep, young Mr. Malfoy. That's not a part of my job description."

Harry sniggered at Draco being read the riot act by a goblin who was supposed to be his servant.

"What good are you then?" Draco snarled at the goblin, who simply shrugged.

"If you're dissatisfied with the service I provide, Mr. Malfoy, you can always discharge me and have a go at it on your own. Believe me, no one is lining up for this job," Sharptooth replied. "Your reputation and this house's reputation isn't a conducive combination by a long shot.

Draco stared at Sharptooth angrily. He didn't want to go it on his own. He needed a servant. He was supposed to have one. He was a Malfoy.

"I expect to see you in the drawing room shortly, Draco," Snape said, turning and exiting the kitchen. He had a smirk on his pale face. It was enjoyable to see Draco so frustrated.

* * *

"Susan! Wait up!" Ron called as the witch marched across the grounds, directing the floating food with her wand. She slowed down.

"Wow, you were something else," Ron said, looking down at her appreciatively.

"I know Draco is under the demons' influence, but he was really acting like a git. It was time someone put him in his place," she said softly, reddening a little.

"Well, you certainly did that, clearing out all the food," Ron replied, his blue eyes hot. "You were so, so dominating and in control."

"I was just angry," Susan replied.

"I want to shag you. Right now. I'm so turned on," Ron breathed at her.

"Ron, I have to put this food away, and besides, there's no place for us to shag right now," Susan told him.

"We could slip away to the barn," Ron suggested.

"No, I have work to do, and so do you," Susan told him. "Plus, I have to start supper."

"Aw, come on, Susan. I'm so hard for you," Ron pleaded.

"No, Ron. I mean it," she said.

"What about tonight, then? Meet me tonight, after supper," Ron said softly,

"That depends on what we have to do tonight, Ron. We are going to have to clean out those demons and Hermione might have some important information to share," Susan said.

Ron groaned. Knowing Hermione, that could take hours.

Suddenly Harry's voice sounded across the grounds. He was calling Ron.

"Damn, I have to go," Ron said, grabbing Susan and snogging her hungrily.

All the food fell.

"Ron!" Susan exclaimed at him as he released her gave her a rakish smile.

"I'll see you later," he said. He'd eaten one of her diet cookies and didn't feel the slightest bit hungry—for food.

Susan sighed, then smiled as he trotted back toward Boleskine house. Then she looked at the line of fallen food and flicked her wand at it. The line formed again and began floating, Susan following behind, shaking her head about Ron.

The slightest thing put him in shag mode. She even avoided bending over in front of him if she could help it.

But, he was a wonderful, attentive boyfriend.

They were a good match.

* * *

Blaise walked into the kitchen. Draco was sitting on one of the stools, looking sullen. The black wizard opened the fridge and his eyes rounded.

"What happened to all of the food? Don't tell me Weasley ate it all," he said, frowning. He walked over to the pantry and opened it, finding it bare as well.

"It's all been moved to the gatehouses," Draco said sullenly. "My servant has gone to restock."

"Servant? What servant?"

"My father sent me a goblin," Draco said. "He's insolent."

Blaise chuckled.

"Of course he's insolent. He's a goblin, and goblins don't really care for wizards. But they do like money. I imagine he's being paid well," he said.

Draco grunted.

"So, why did they take all the food?" Blaise asked him.

"Weasley's sow took it," Draco said angrily. "That fat bitch doesn't know how to respect her betters. I would have blasted her fat arse if the rest of them weren't here."

Blaise didn't think Susan would be that easy to blast. He didn't trust people who were so "nice" all of the time. Those were the ones you had to pay attention to the most. They could just be keeping anger built up inside, waiting to let it all loose on one unfortunate person. Draco wasn't smart at all.

"Well, I guess I'll go over to the gatehouse," Blaise said. "I'm hungry."

"I don't think they'll feed you if you don't work, Blaise," Draco responded. Blaise scowled. If he wasn't so interested in the demons, he'd leave this place in a second.

"What are they doing?"

"They're in the drawing room, spreading dirt on the terrace."

"Doesn't sound too difficult," Blaise said. "I'll see you later, Draco."

Draco didn't respond as Blaise left the kitchen. He was angry at the disrespect Susan had shown him, and was getting angrier by the second. How dare she confront him that way, as if—as if she were his equal.

He had no equal here.

From the corner of the room, two presences observed Draco, his anger and injured pride shimmering around him like waves of heat. They were well aware what was going on in the drawing room. They eyed the sullen wizard.

_Nice._

_Yes. He could be helpful._

* * *

A/N: My apologies for the long wait between chapters. Wasn't an easy week in RL, and my muse just isn't with me. It took me two days to get this written when normally it only takes me an hour or two to write a chapter, and it was like pulling teeth, believe me. I guess not every day can be inspired. This was WORK. Blech. Lol. I hope it still entertained you however. Thanks for both for your patience, and for reading. ***


	85. Plowing Ahead

**Chapter 84 ~ Plowing Ahead**

Ginny was walking toward Boleskine house and saw Blaise walking toward her. She had just passed Susan and was on her way to let the boys know that the gatehouse was ready to be inhabited.

Blaise's dark eyes rested on the redhead, who looked back at him rather defiantly as they drew closer. The Slytherin blocked her path.

"Move, Blaise," Ginny hissed at him.

"So rude," he said softly. "I just want to know where I can get a sandwich."

"You don't deserve a sandwich. You've done nothing to help anyone," she snapped at him.

Blaise frowned at her.

"For your information, I'm taking the sandwich back to Boleskine house. I'm going to pull my weight. I only left earlier because I couldn't take everyone's 'better than thou' attitudes," the wizard told her. "And, I wanted to see if I could feel the demon influence in the house. I couldn't."

"That's probably because you're already evil," Ginny told him.

"I'm dark, not evil," Blaise said, his brown eyes drifting down her body. "Have you ever been with a dark wizard before, Ginny?"

"No. And I don't ever plan to be," she replied, trying to walk around him. He shifted over, still blocking her way.

"Don't make me take out my wand," she snarled at him.

Blaise smirked.

"You're so—reactive. A dangerous witch. I like that, because I'm a dangerous wizard as well. But—not totally bad, Ginny—in fact, I could be quite good to you."

"Good to me. Right."

Blaise's brown eyes shifted around the grounds for a moment, then fell back on Ginny.

"This morning—you felt me. I could see it in your eyes," he said softly. "If I could have gotten my hands on you, all you would have known was me. I want to shag you, Ginny. One time. One good time. No one would ever have to know—"

"I'd know! You have some nerve telling me that, knowing I go out with Harry," she said to him.

"I'm just being honest. I'm attracted to you. Harry doesn't mean anything to me, Ginny. He's already a has-been. His best days are behind him. He's dull, and he's always going to be dull. I bet you've already fell into a 'comfortable' pattern with him, like an old married couple. Friends, with privileges. You'd know I wasn't your 'friend' if you gave me a little time. A friend wouldn't shag you the way I would—"

"The demons have you," Ginny breathed at him.

Blaise shook his head.

"No. I've wanted you since Hogwarts. The only thing that has me—is you."

"Leave me alone, Blaise."

"I'll wait for you near the boathouse tonight. At two in the morning, Ginny," Blaise said, his eyes hot. "If you come, I'll give you something Potter never could, and it would be between us—forever."

Ginny started as she felt magic swirl around them. Blaise had taken an oath of Silence.

"That's how serious I am. I know you're hot for me, Ginny. Why fight it? You can stay with Harry if you want to, you'll have the rest of your life with him. But why not at least find out what it's like to be with someone like me? I know you're curious. Don't you want to do something—bad? It's in you. I'm as bad as they come."

"You're crazy if you think I'd come to the boathouse in the middle of the night so you could shag me. I love Harry," Ginny hissed at Blaise.

"I didn't say you didn't love him, Ginny," the wizard replied. "I'm just saying—look, I'll be there. If you don't come, then I'm wrong about you. I can live with that, but—can you? Are you really ready to just be with Harry for the rest of your life not knowing what it's like to be with another wizard at least once? I know you're a Gryffindor and you have your beliefs about what loyalty is. Sacrifice. But, I'm a Slytherin and I believe in being loyal and true to myself. If I'm not, I'm living a lie. Are you ready to live a lie, Ginny? If it's in you, you should do it and let it out. If you don't, you might regret it later, when I'm long gone."

"I guess that line of dragon dung works for you with other witches, eh, Blaise?"

"Like I said, I'm being honest. If you think being honest is dragon dung, then that's on you. But, I want you. I want you so much, Ginny, I can taste it. And I can feel that you're interested in taking a ride on the dark side with me. I promise, if you do—you won't be disappointed. I'm good, very good."

"No, Blaise," Ginny said, stalking around him and heading for Boleskine house.

He watched her walk for a second, then called out, "What about that sandwich?"

Ginny flung one hand in the direction of the gatehouse the wizards were going to occupy without looking back.

"I'll be at the boathouse, tonight," he called after her again. "At two."

Ginny kept going.

Blaise was out of his mind.

* * *

By the time Blaise made it to the gatehouse, Susan and Hermione had put away the food.

"I can't believe what an idiot Draco is being," Hermione said to the Hufflepuff as she wiped down the large kitchen table. This gatehouse was larger than the one at the gate, although not as pretty.

"Well, believe it," Susan replied. "He's a prat with a capital 'P.' He really needs to leave the house before—"

Suddenly, she stopped talking as she saw Blaise standing in the doorway, his brown eyes resting on her.

"I'm here for a sandwich," he said, his eyes shifting to a scowling Hermione.

"You haven't been helping, Blaise. You shouldn't get anything to eat if you ask me," she said.

Blaise's face contorted.

"I'm not asking you," he retorted, his eyes shifting back to Susan.

"Sure, Blaise. Would you like me to make it for you?" Susan asked him pleasantly.

The Slytherin seemed a bit taken aback by her politeness. He had expected more grief from the witches.

"Yes," he responded, then added, "Please."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose. Did Blaise actually say please? The sky was going to fall.

"Have a seat," Susan told him, retrieving bread, cold cuts, toppings and condiments.

Blaise sat down at the table, ignoring Hermione's glare.

As she worked, Susan struck up a conversation with Blaise.

"Do you know how much sand they've moved?" she asked him. "I was at the house, but busy in the kitchen."

Hermione made herself scarce, going to check the bathroom again although it was spotless. She didn't care for Blaise much.

"They've done quite a bit," Blaise said. "I'll be going back to help after I have my sandwich. We have to spread it out evenly."

He watched as she stacked a generous amount of meat on the sandwich.

"I'm glad you decided to help," she said as she added tomatoes.

"I never intended not to help, although I think they're going about it all wrong," the wizard said as Susan slid the sandwich over to him.

"Pumpkin juice?"

"Yes, thank you."

Susan smiled slightly as she retrieved the juice. Respect was a two-way street. Blaise, as bad as he was, was still capable of being civil. Perhaps her being a Hufflepuff rather than a Gryffindor had something to do with it as well.

Hermione was heading back toward the kitchen when she heard Susan say, "So, you think they're going about clearing out the demons the wrong way, Blaise?"

What?

Hermione stalked into the kitchen just as Blaise took his first bite of his sandwich.

"So, what do you know about it, Blaise?" she asked him hotly.

The wizard looked surprised as he chewed and swallowed.

"About what?"

"About how to handle demons summoned by Muggle magic," she demanded

"I'm not saying I know anything about it, Granger," he replied, "but common sense dictates that—"

"We need more than common sense here, Blaise. Only knowledge is going to help us. I'm going to learn the banishing ritual and teach it to the rest of you. There's preparation involved—"

"You think too much, Granger," the wizard said, frowning.

"Apparently, you don't think enough," she shot back at him.

Blaise downed his pumpkin juice quickly, then picked up his sandwich, standing up.

"Forget it. Thanks for the sandwich, Susan," he said, then walked out of the kitchen, Hermione frowning after him.

"You know, he might have had something important to share, Hermione," Susan said softly as Hermione turned on her.

"I highly doubt it, Susan. Blaise isn't a team player and a pureblood. Not that that's bad, but he doesn't understand the Muggle way very much. There's no way he could. You know Slytherins avoid Muggle Studies," she replied.

"Still," Susan said doubtfully.

"Trust me on this, Susan," Hermione responded. "Now, I'm going back to our gatehouse to do some reading about the ritual."

Hermione left the kitchen, Susan looking after her with a slight frown.

Hermione really didn't need demons to be arrogant. A Slytherin she didn't like would do.

* * *

After spreading the sand on the terrace at Boleskine House, Snape, Harry, Ron and Blaise headed for the gatehouse and supper. They found the witches waiting for them. Snape had told Draco he was expected to show up as well to hear what Hermione had to tell them. Draco didn't want to come but Snape told him to either come or pack his bags.

They were all seated at the table in the kitchen, about to eat the spread Susan had laid out, when they heard something rolling across the ground. Ron stood up and looked out of the kitchen window.

"I don't bloody believe it," he said, shaking his head.

Everyone else stood up and looked outside.

Pulling up to the gatehouse was Sharptooth, carrying Draco along in what looked like a rickshaw.

"Oh . . . my . . . gods," Hermione said as Draco dismounted. Sharptooth looked completely out of sorts as the blond wizard passed him, then made an obscene gesture behind Draco's back.

"Doesn't look like Sharptooth appreciates being used for transportation," Snape said as Draco walked up to the house and entered. He walked into the kitchen and looked around.

"This place is a dump," he announced, frowning.

"You don't have to sleep here," Ron shot back at him as they all sat down again.

"Would you like to eat, Draco?" Susan asked him politely.

Draco's gray eyes rested on her disdainfully. She had some nerve asking him that after taking all the food from Boleskine House.

"No, I wouldn't like to eat. My servant has already fed me, and better fare than this," he said loftily.

"Fine, then just shut up," Ron growled at him. He still wanted to punch him in the nose.

Draco folded his arms as everyone filled their plates. They had fish and chips with peas, salt, vinegar and ketchup. It smelled delicious. Draco had steak for his dinner, perfectly cooked, with roast potatoes and a side of Brussels sprouts.

"Now, I've done some reading, and we have to get some supplies. Handmade white robes, holy water and other items. We're going to have to purify them and ourselves, meaning no sex for seven days once we start preparing.

"No sex!" Ron spluttered.

Harry and Snape didn't look too pleased either.

"For how long?" Harry asked for clarification.

"A week, starting tomorrow," Hermione said. "I'm going to go get what we need in the morning."

Wizards and witches looked at each other. That meant they had to get shagging out of their systems tonight. Blaise's eyes shifted to Ginny, who ignored him, looking at Harry. Draco just looked bored.

"But, we're in different gatehouses," Harry complained, looking at Ginny. How were they going to pull this off?

"Well, two couples can stay in the gatehouses, and one can find another place if they want privacy tonight," Hermione said, reddening.

"We can stay at Boleskine House, Hermione," Snape said softly. He wasn't affected by the demons, and if Hermione became arrogant again, he could show her his displeasure in a very physical, enjoyable and somewhat dominating way. In fact, he hoped she'd act up, just a little. He'd love to pound that arrogance right out of her.

"Can we move this along?" Blaise asked, frowning. He didn't care about them planning their conjugal visits. But this development definitely didn't bode well for his plans with Ginny.

Damn it.

"All right, Severus. Staying in Boleskine house for one night won't kill us, but I have to leave early in the morning, and we can't talk about our plans while we're there," she told him. "The demons will hear them."

"I'm sure the demons know something is going on with all the sand we put on the terrace," Draco sniffed.

"But not exactly what," Hermione replied, frowning at the pureblood.

Blaise just shook his head. He thought all of this was rather stupid. There was a simpler solution, he was sure. But Granger was such a blasted know-it-all, just let her handle it. She wasn't willing to listen earlier, and he wasn't about to repeat himself.

"Now," Hermione said importantly, "Here's what the actual banishing ritual consists of—"

* * *

A/N: Okay, another transitional chapter. I've come up with an interesting scenario for the demon banishment, I think, but I'm wondering if I should insert an HG/SS lemon in the next chapter since we haven't had a detailed one in a while. What do you think? Sorry about the wait between chapters. Not at my best lately. Anyway, thanks for reading.


	86. Oaths and Affectations

**Chapter 85 ~ Oaths and Affectations**

"Meditation? No meat? Learn chants? Oh, Hermione," Ron groused. Both Blaise and Draco looked disgusted. Everyone else just seemed resigned.

"It's important. Just as we have to purify our bodies, we have to purify our minds as well. And we ALL have to do it," Hermione said, her eyes narrowed. "And learning the proper chanting responses is important. A lot of Muggle magic is based on vocalization and tonal vibration. Sound is power. It flows through the ethers. One of their basic beliefs is that the entire universe began with a simple, powerful word. These faith-based demons are a part of that and respond to it."

Blaise snorted but didn't say anything as Hermione continued.

"If even one person doesn't follow protocol, the banishment ritual won't work and there could be repercussions. So, we're all going to have to take an oath to do what's required for the next seven days."

"This is ridiculous!" Draco hissed, scowling at Hermione. "I won't do this!"

"Then, you're free to leave, Draco. I want these premises cleared of demonic influence and if you aren't a help, then you're a hindrance," Snape told him coolly. "I thought you came here to strengthen your resolve—to face your fears. This is a rare opportunity."

"He's scared," Ron said witheringly.

"I'm not! I just don't like the idea of denying myself the basic pleasures I'm accustomed to enjoying," Draco responded depreciatingly. "Unlike you, Weasley, I am privileged and used to the good life."

"Unlike me, you're an arsehole who needs a kick in the trousers."

"Stop it, the both of you. Anyone who doesn't want to participate doesn't have to do it. But, as Severus said, if you aren't going to be a help, you'll be a hindrance. A weak link. Someone the demons might be able to use to disrupt the banishing. We can't afford that, so—if anyone wants out, now is the time to say it," Hermione said.

Everyone fell silent, including Draco. He didn't want to give these peons the idea he was afraid. He wasn't afraid. He just wanted what he wanted.

"Your goblin is going to have to comply, too, Draco. Call him in here," Snape said.

"What? You expect my servant to comply? He's not even part of this!"

"He's on the grounds, Draco, and goblins aren't short on vices by a long shot. Sharptooth's either going to have to comply or leave the premises as well."

"But, he's my servant!"

"That doesn't matter," Snape told him. "Either he's in, or he goes."

Draco looked sullen as Snape waited for his response. Hermione was smirking slightly, very proud of the way Severus was taking charge.

"What about the caretaker?" Harry asked.

"Ben Weatherstaff? He's not really a part of this. He stays on the grounds for the most part. We don't need him," Hermione said. "But Sharptooth has to be on board. Call him in, Draco."

Looking as if he'd sucked on something particularly sour, Draco left the kitchen, then returned with a sullen Sharptooth, who scowled at the group, particularly Susan.

Hermione cleared her throat and the goblin's slanted eyes rested on her.

"Sharptooth, you're aware of the demons that occupy Boleskine House, aren't you?" she asked him.

"I've heard the claim, but I don't sense anything evil in the place—"

The goblin's eyes shifted toward Draco for a moment, then back to Hermione.

"At least, nothing otherworldly," he finished. Draco furrowed his brow at the goblin as Hermione smirked.

"Perhaps, they aren't affecting you because you're already a bit—er—dark," she suggested.

"Perhaps they aren't affecting me because they don't exist and are nothing more than a Muggle myth," Sharptooth replied.

"They're more than myth, Sharptooth. Several of us have been affected, and Draco is being affected right now. He's usually not this—"

Hermione hesitated as she searched for a word that wouldn't be too offensive.

"Stuck up," Harry offered. "He had been improving, but now—he's acting like a little dictator. He's devolving."

"Devolving? How dare you—" Draco seethed.

"Look, Draco, you've been acting snootier and snootier. You even had Sharptooth pull you over the grounds in a rickshaw like you're too good to walk," Ginny said. "How stuck up is that? When you first got here, you didn't have a problem walking any place."

"I didn't have a servant, then," Draco responded.

"You don't need a bloody servant. It's the demons, Draco," she pressed.

Sharptooth looked at Draco consideringly. It did sound as if he had changed since being here.

"All right. So my master is being affected by something. What does that have to do with me? I simply serve him and earn my pay," Sharptooth said.

"Well, we're going to banish the demons, and everyone who occupies the house and is involved in the ritual has to purify themselves," Hermione explained. "They have to learn chants, meditate, eat no meat and not have sexual relations for the next seven days. This includes you."

The goblin blinked at Hermione, then looked up at Draco.

"You're on your own," the goblin said, then disappeared.

"What? Wait! Sharptooth!" Draco yelled, whirling around then running out of the kitchen to stare over the grounds. The sun was starting to set and there was no sign of Sharptooth.

He stalked back into the kitchen then snarled at Hermione, "You cost me my servant!"

"Not the first time I've heard a Malfoy say that," Harry said with a grin.

"Shut up, Harry!" Draco snapped at him for bringing up his father's words when he lost Dobby the House-elf. After killing the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had given Lucius Tom Riddle's diary, hiding a sock inside it. When Lucius passed it off to Dobby to carry, he also handed him clothes, which freed the House-elf from service. Then, to add insult to injury, Dobby nearly blasted him out of his boots for pulling his wand on Harry. Harry always remembered that moment fondly. Seeing Lord Malfoy slide twenty feet on his arse was something to remember.

"What am I supposed to do without my servant?" Draco demanded. He was furious.

"Oh, I don't know. Go home?" Ron suggested.

"Take your meals in the gatehouses like everyone else," Hermione said. "You don't really need a servant if you think about it. You just want one because the demons are influencing you. You should really move out of the house, Draco. You'll feel much better and be less of a git. Blaise, you should move out, too."

"I'm not going anywhere," Blaise said firmly. "I'm comfortable there."

"But, you can't practice the chants in the house. You'll tip off the demons."

"Fine. I'll practice them elsewhere. But I think this is all a waste of time," the wizard said, frowning.

"I already know what you think, and I'm not interested," Hermione replied.

Blaise shrugged at her rudeness.

"Fine," he said shortly. "But, the only reason I'm staying is to watch you all make idiots of yourselves."

Everyone scowled at him.

"If you think that, Blaise, maybe you should just leave and let us go at it," Ginny said coldly. His dark eyes rested on her.

"I'm not ready to leave," he replied, his eyes glittering as he looked at her. "I'm going to participate in this insanity just to see what happens, if anything."

"Don't do us any favors," Ron said.

Blaise didn't reply. His eyes shifted to Snape, who looked back at him steadily.

"He's fine, Ron," Snape said, then he looked at Draco.

"What are you going to do?" he asked him. "Do you stay or do you go?"

"I'll stay," Draco said distastefully. "I'll move out of the house for a night or two to see if anything changes. If it doesn't, I'm going back. Blaise, will you help me get the boathouse in shape?"

Blaise nodded.

Relieved, Hermione let out a sigh.

"All right, we all have to take the oath to follow the instructions I've given. Are you ready?"

Everyone nodded and took the oath, magic swirling around them strongly.

"All right. We're done here for now," Hermione said to everyone. "Tomorrow, we'll meet at the main gatehouse for lunch and further instructions. I'll have the chants written out and your robes."

"I'll clear out the meat," Susan said. "That way there won't be any temptation. There's a few meat substitutes I could use in the interim. But I'll have to go buy them."

"Fine, you can come with me tomorrow morning," Hermione said with a smile.

"I want to go, too," Ginny said.

"Fine. It will be a girl's day out," Hermione agreed.

"And what are we supposed to do while all of you are gone?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. Play Quidditch or something. Go swimming. Explore the grounds. There's plenty to do other than be stuck under Susan all the time," Hermione said tightly.

If she were Susan, she wouldn't be able to stand how much Ron hovered around her. He wasn't like that when they were going out. It was a good thing, too. Hermione probably would have hexed him in irritation. But Susan didn't seem to mind it at all. She liked his attention.

"I won't be gone long, Ron," Susan said softly. "And we do have tonight."

"Yeah, that is right. Now, if everyone would get out of here, we could get started," Ron said. He and Susan were going to stay at this gatehouse. Harry and Ginny had the one by the main gate, and Hermione and Snape were going to take their old bedroom at Boleskin house.

"All right, we can take a hint, Ron," Harry said with a smile, rising and taking Ginny's hand to help her up. Blaise's eyes narrowed at this. He stood little chance of Ginny coming to him tonight, especially since she and Harry couldn't have sex for the next week, and Draco was moving into the boathouse. This just sucked.

"It wasn't a hint," Ron replied as Hermione and Severus rose, too.

"Come on, Blaise," Draco said, leaving the kitchen. Blaise followed.

Everyone departed the house, the couples intent on establishing a bit of privacy, and Draco and Blaise heading for the boathouse.

* * *

AS Hermione and Snape slowly walked toward the house, their shoulders bumping together, Snape said, "You know, Hermione, we never got around to naming your virtues."

She shrugged.

"I don't really have that many," she said softly. "It didn't matter. I think the vices were more important to identify. I really think Susan is going to have to lead the ritual, with Harry as back-up."

"Oh, but you do have virtues, Hermione," Snape replied. "Charity, Diligence and Kindness."

Hermione smiled.

"I notice you didn't add Temperance, Patience or Humility," she countered.

Snape smirked slightly.

"You aren't particularly big on those, Hermione. I'm just being honest," he said. "But Brillance should be a virtue. You're pulling everything together. You're the glue that makes everything work. What would we do without you? What would I do without you?"

Hermione blushed.

"You'd get along," she replied.

Snape stopped walking and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her gently and sensuously, warmth creeping over her body as the contact. He pulled away from her mouth, looking down at her.

"No, I wouldn't," he said softly, his black eyes tender as he looked at her. "I wouldn't get along at all. Come on. Let's get to the house."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, those tender black eyes were glittering at Hermione as the couple sat in the kitchen, enjoying the expensive and rather tasty tea Sharptooth had purchased for Draco.

It seemed the demons latched on to her immediately and with malice the moment she entered the house and she was busily extolling her own self-perceived virtues while putting down everyone else, especially Snape, who just listened.

"Really, you should have just told Blaise to leave. What are you thinking? He's dead weight, Severus. Don't tell me that your Slytherin sensibilities are at work. The only reason I can even think of for you to want him to stay is because he's a fellow Slytherin."

"He's a powerful wizard, Hermione," he said tightly.

Hermione made a disparaging noise.

"Powerful to you, maybe, but I think he's just evil—maybe even Voldemort evil," she said to the shocked wizard. Comparing anyone to Voldemort was the worst insult possible, and although Blaise wasn't the friendliest fellow, he didn't deserve it.

"Are you finished with your tea?" Snape asked her.

"Do I look finished?" Hermione snapped back at him. She had a little left in the bottom of her cup.

Snape didn't say anything, but frowned at her. Well, he had hoped she'd get a little arrogant. He got what he wanted in spades. He wondered if physical acts could block or weaken the demon influence.

He planned to find out. He waited for Hermione to finish her tea then rose and left the kitchen, walking quickly toward the bedroom, the witch following him, still chattering away.

"It's going to be seven days until we can have sex again, Severus, so you're going to have to make this good," she said to him in a nagging voice.

Silently, he opened the bedroom door, entering it, Hermione walking in after him.

"Last time was a bit quick," she added, as he frowned. Yes, it had been quick, but that was because it had been extremely good and they both reached climax. She hadn't complained a bit. Now, she was bringing it up as if he hadn't satisfied her.

Not good, Hermione.

"I assure you, this time won't be quick at all," Snape said softly as he gave the command that unbuttoned the fasteners on his robes.

"Promises, promises," Hermione said in a voice that clearly implied she didn't believe him.

Two presences watched from the corner of the room, eyeing the shimmer around Snape as he and Hermione undressed.

_Should we influence him too?_

_No. It isn't necessary. He already feels Wrath and Lust. Let nature take its course._

_It isn't all nature. The girl . . ._

_Yesssss. She's so easy._

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	87. Under the Influence

**Chapter 86 ~ Under the Influence**

Snape removed all of his clothing except for his boxers and slipped under the covers, watching quietly as Hermione undressed and pulled on her nightgown. The moment she entered the bed, Snape grabbed her and rolled on top of her, holding her down by the wrists and staring down at her.

"Hey! Not so rough!" she complained. "You have all the delicacy of a rutting troll, Severus!"

He blinked at her.

"A rutting—troll?" he asked her incredulously.

"Yes! I'm barely under the covers and you just—"

"Hermione. Shut up," Snape said to her. "The demons have you again."

"They do not!"

"Believe me, they do."

"Don't you think I'd know if I were being influenced?" she asked him, struggling under his weight.

"Not if you're in the moment, no," Snape replied.

"Get off of me!"

"No, I won't. I want to see if I can disrupt or break the demon influence," the wizard said softly.

"There is no influence!" Hermione hissed at him.

"Do you really think you're this much of a bitch naturally?" Snape asked her.

Hermione went wild, twisting and kicking her legs, trying to get away from him, her wrath increasing dramatically. If she had a weapon at this point, she'd gladly use it on the big git.

"Bitch? I'll give you bitch!" she cried, wrestling with Snape, whose mouth was drawn in a thin line as she writhed. She almost kneed him in his goods.

"Watch it!" he growled, shaking her a bit. "Now, listen to me. From what I understand, the influence is—is spiritual—"

"Of course it is," Hermione snapped back at him.

"And according to Crowley's book, the only thing that can block spiritual influence is the physical, or carnal—"

"You've been reading that book?"

"Yes. I've picked it up now and again, when you weren't using it—"

"That's MY book! You didn't have any right to read it. I'm the one who's figuring this out—"

Snape shook his head slightly. After all of the books of his that Hermione pawed through, she had the nerve to begrudge him a few peeks into one of hers?

"I guess we can add Covetousness to your list of vices," he said softly.

"Oooh!" Hermione raged, arching her back and actually lifting Snape upward. He struggled for balance and went dead weight. Hermione dropped back down.

"Listen," Snape said to her. "In his later years, Crowley practiced all types of physical and sexual deviations. I think he did it primarily to try and block the spiritual forces he'd awakened. More than likely he disturbed more beings that weren't tied to Boleskine House. Creatures that could follow him about."

"Who asked you to think?" Hermione spat at him.

That was it. Snape had reached his threshold.

"I see I'm going to have to just show you, rather than tell you," he said tightly, releasing one of Hermione's hands and reaching down to tug on his boxers. He had a raging erection.

The moment Hermione found her hand free, she swung at Snape, connecting on the side of his head, and the battle began, Snape trying to hold her off, keep her in the bed and away from her wand while trying to remove his boxers.

Hermione was like a witch possessed, and she was possessed. Supremely angry at Snape, she punched, kicked, slapped and scratched him between trying to scramble out of the bed to get at her discarded robes which contained her wand. At one point, Snape had to hop after her, his boxers caught around his calves, then shuffle with her back to the bed and throw her in, only to have her leap out of the other side.

The presences watched, highly entertained. They hadn't seen this much violence in decades. There was no blood or gore, but it was still interesting.

Hermione grabbed the pillow and hit Snape with a hard uppercut that sent feathers flying everywhere before he tackled her, taking her down to the bed. He was finally nude and spitting feathers out of his mouth as he rolled around with her. His erection didn't wilt a bit. In fact, he was enjoying this. Hermione was a real hellcat with the demon influence.

"Arrrgh!" he howled as she raked her nails down his back.

_Give her some scales and claws and she'd fit in nicely in the Pit._

_Easily._

Snape threw Hermione down on her stomach and fell on top of her, pressing her face down into the pillow with one hand, the witch cursing and threatening him in a muffled voice as he dragged her to her knees, then speared her brutally with his cock, driving deep so she squealed and fell silent.

Panting, Snape held still, pressing into her. He slowly removed his hand from her head and straightened, grasping her waist as she turned her head to look at him. She had calmed the moment he entered her.

"Now, you feel me," he said softly, their bodies connected like lock and key. "Crowley was right. The carnal can supersede the spiritual."

He leaned down and kissed her upper back, still not moving inside her. Hermione's brown eyes narrowed at him as he looked at her.

_Not that easy, sorcerer._

Hermione suddenly reached back and raked her nails across Snape's face. The wizard yanked back and snarled, bringing his hand to his cheek, which bled a bit. He looked at the blood on his fingers, then down at Hermione.

"I guess I'm not being carnal enough," he growled, catching hold of her arm by the wrist and twisting it behind her back, then he pulled back and slammed into her brutally, jerking her body, Hermione crying out his name in reaction.

But that only served to goad Snape on and he started fucking her, hard and fast, catching hold of her other arm and bending it behind her as well. Hermione lay face in the pillow, her arse in the air and Snape on his knees behind her, his hair swinging from his efforts as he plunged in and out of her, buttocks clenching and unclenching. Snape rode Hermione as if she were a racehorse and they heading into the final stretch. His loins slapped against her flesh loudly as he yanked her roughly, pulling her back into his stroke.

"I'll bet the only demon you feel now, is me," he grunted, tearing into Hermione, whose eyes were rolling up into her head as he pounded her. Suddenly, Snape withdrew and flipped Hermione to her back, staring down at her. She already looked thoroughly reamed, her eyes dazed and her lips parted. He fell on top of her and raped her mouth hungrily, licking, sucking and tasting her heat. He felt as if he wanted to literally consume her, his body sliding against hers, wet with perspiration, the scent of sex heavy in the air. But there was something else in him, something dark. He climbed off her body and lifted her legs, pushing her knees against her chest.

"Hold them there!" he snarled at her.

Panting, Hermione did as he asked and Snape turned around and sat on her upper thighs, pressing his cock downward and driving deep inside her.

"Oh my gaaaaah!" Hermione cried out as Snape began to fuck her in this crazy position, leaning forward and resting one hand on the bed to keep his balance and control his weight. He could see everything from this vantage point, Hermione's sweet little pussy swallowing down his thickness, puckering like a tiny mouth around his shaft, streaks of white lubrication coating his cock so it glistened as he shoved it in up to his balls, hissing with pleasure.

"Oh, this is good—" he breathed as his balls pressed against her bottom over and over, her hot inner flesh caressing him. "Deeper—I have to get deeper inside you—oh—Hermione—"

Hermione had released her legs and they rested against Snape's body as her hands clutched and pulled at his back and flanks. He wasn't pummeling her now, but he still had depth and felt amazing as he used his heels to rock back and forth, burying himself inside her to the hilt. She could feel the delicious tightening inside her that announced an oncoming orgasm. Snape could feel it, too.

"Yessssss," he groaned as she began to tighten around him, and he began to move faster, his eyes threatening to roll up into his head. "Let it go, Hermione. Give it to me--"

"Oh—Sever—ooh!" Hermione breathed as she erupted, boiling over him, Snape gasping at her heat and tightness, staring down at his now completely dripping cock driving into her softness as he felt her hands draw down his back and come to rest at the small of it.

"Hermione," he breathed, pulling out of her and turning, pulling her up and kissing her reverently, before falling to the bed and pulling her on top of him. The anger he felt was gone now as he looked up into her heated eyes.

"Do you still want to hurt me?" he asked her softly.

"No, not hurt you—but—but—"

"What?"

"I want to try something different, too," she said softly.

"You can try anything you like," Snape said, caressing her hair.

Hermione gave him a bit of a wicked smile as she climbed off of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked her as she slid down the bed a bit.

"This," Hermione said, grabbing his legs much the same way he had grabbed hers and forcing him to draw his knees into his chest, his cock erect between his legs.

"What the—oh! Oh, fuck!" Snape gasped as Hermione climbed over him and slid herself down on his erection, sitting on his thighs, grasping his ankles and starting to bounce.

"Now this—is a good position," Hermione gasped as she rose and fell.

Snape's mouth was open and he couldn't seem to shut it as Hermione fucked him in the most dominating position he could have ever imagined. It was a little disconcerting to have his knees drawn into his chest and held there by the witch, but damn, it felt incredible. It was the cowgirl position to the Nth power!

"Oh, yes—yesyesyesyesyes!" Hermione hissed. "Now, who's the bitch, Severus? Who's—the—bitch?"

Snape didn't care right now as Hermione punctuated each word with a good, hard bounce. All he cared about was the feeling of Hermione moving over him, slamming herself down on his cock with abandon, taking her pleasure. It was a turn on to see her like this—even to submit to her like this. She could take the power too, and was proving it.

_My. They are lusty aren't they?_

_Yes. And the girl no longer feels us. Her connection to him is stronger._

_Then, let us go—for now._

The two presences faded out.

Hermione rode Snape like a champion, everything on her body bouncing deliciously as she rose and fell, grasping his shoulders and snarling down at him with lust, her hair and body damp with perspiration

"You're so—beautiful!" Snape gasped up at her, feeling the tell-tale tightening of his balls. Hermione didn't help any when she reached around and tickled his perineum with her fingertip.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Snape cursed as his legs shot out and knocked Hermione on her back, pulling his cock down at an odd angle that made both of them cry out before Snape rolled forward and jumped on top of her, hoisting her legs over his shoulders. He drove into her like a madman before he completely blew. He let out an agonized shout of bliss as he dropped on Hermione, locked his mouth to hers and shot several ecstatic jets of come into her softness.

They lay there entwined for several minutes, then Snape lifted his head and looked down at Hermione. He brushed a damp curl away from her forehead.

"Maybe we should let the demons stay," he suggested.

"No."

"Just a thought."

* * *

A/N: Ooh! Cool positions, eh? Especially Hermione's takeover. Yum. Girls, if you get your guy to let you do this, please tell me how it went. Lolol. I couldn't help imagining Snape thinking it might be nice to keep the demons around as sex aids. ;) Anyway, thanks for reading.

A/A/N: An illustration of Hermione's position can be seen here at www . theburningpen . com SLASH loop SLASH position . jpg Close the gaps and put slashes where SLASH appears.


	88. Blaise's Outlook

**Chapter 87 ~ Blaise's Outlook**

The next morning found Snape, Ron and Harry in the kitchen of the main gatehouse, eating their breakfasts, sans witches. They had left the confines of Boleskine early for their "girls' day out," with Hermione intent on purchasing the items they would need for the banishing of the demons. She had access to Snape's bank account in order to procure the necessities. The expenditures would be listed under "house cleaning supplies."

Last night, Blaise had half-heartedly waited outside the boathouse for Ginny. Since Draco had moved into the boathouse, he had planned to take her to a secluded area on the grounds. Doing it outside was a turn on, after all. But, in his heart, he knew she wouldn't come.

She didn't.

Blaise finally returned to Boleskine house to have a little one-on-one with his hand.

Ron carefully ate the quarter of potent diet cookie Susan left for him before digging into the breakfast plate she'd prepared. She had left each wizard a plate of food wrapped in foil in the oven before she left, so everyone would have a good meal. She had also cleared out all the meat, including tinned meat so there would be no cheating, and used her cornucopia to provide vegetarian bangers. One could hardly tell the difference in taste. But the texture was a little off. Altogether, not too bad with toast, beans and fresh tomato slices.

All three wizards ate in relative silence, their minds still on the night before and how good the sex had been for all of them.

After they took the edge off their hunger, Ron was the first to speak.

"You know, last night was supposed to let us get our fill of our girlfriends," he said, cutting a banger, "but—gods, it didn't work out that way. I feel like I could spend the entire week in bed with Susan."

Snape and Harry understood how he felt.

Especially, Harry. His night with Ginny had been different than any night before. Harry loved Ginny very much, and his lovemaking showed that. He was always tender and gentle with her and had been from the first time they shagged.

Well, last night Ginny told him she didn't want that. That she wanted him to be rough—strong and selfish. It took Harry a while to wrap his mind around that, but not too long a while, and he made a very good showing. He also had a somewhat guilty sense of satisfaction afterwards. Pounding a shrieking Ginny face-first into the mattress did something for him. He felt more—manly somehow.

It had done something for Ginny, too. It broke the illicit attraction she was feeling toward Blaise. Part of her had wanted to go to the dark wizard, to find out for herself what he was about. It was almost an animal attraction. The demons had little to do with it. Luckily, she had subconsciously figured out what Snape did, in a way. By totally getting into Harry, she'd fought off Blaise's influence. He was no demon, but pretty close to it as far as she was concerned, tempting her the way he did.

Ginny and Harry were closer than ever now.

Snape chewed his food slowly. On one pale cheek, three pink stripes were just visible, a reminder how Hermione had scratched him. But considering what a hot night they had, a couple of scratches were definitely worth it. He had a couple of matching ones on his back as well.

"I know how you feel, Ron," Harry said softly, but he didn't say anything more. Ginny was Ron's sister, so he couldn't go into details.

Ron's blue eyes shifted towards Severus and the faint lines on his cheek.

"How was your night, Severus?" he asked him curiously.

"The demons set upon Hermione almost instantly—but I managed to handle it," he said softly, not looking up from his food.

Ron wanted to inquire further. He knew Hermione had to have put those scratches on Snape's face, but—that would be too intrusive, considering he used to be Hermione's boyfriend. If she was a witch he had never been with, he could have asked. But to do so under the circumstances would be bad form. He'd just have to wonder.

"Where's breakfast?"

Draco Malfoy had walked in, and was glaring at the three of them as they ate.

"In the oven," Ron said, tossing his head toward the stove.

Draco stalked over and retrieved his breakfast. He sat down at the kitchen table, looked at the food, then picked up a banger and bit into it. He chewed, frowning slightly.

"This banger tastes a little off," he complained.

"It's meatless," Harry informed him. "We can't eat meat for a week, remember?"

Draco scowled.

"This is unacceptable. I can't live off of this," he grumbled.

"There's always Malfoy Manor," Ron replied.

"No. I've already told you I'm staying," Draco replied. "But you're going to have to make room in your gatehouse. The boathouse is completely unsuitable. The lapping water kept me up most of the night, not to mention all the buzzing and croaking."

"Why didn't you cast a Silencing spell?" Harry asked him.

"Because," Draco said, reddening a little. "I don't like using that charm when I'm asleep. If something is approaching me, I won't hear it coming."

"Scared of the dark, eh, Malfoy?" Ron said with a leer.

"No. I'm not afraid of the dark, just what could be in the dark. It's a precaution, you dolt!"

Ron was about to make another sneering comment when Snape stepped in.

"Enough," Snape said, "You can share the living room with me, Draco. But you'll have to sleep on the floor. The couch is mine."

"The floor? You must be kidding me. I'll bring my cot. The floor. No possible way."

Snape just shrugged. Blaise walked in the door and looked at the four wizards, his brown eyes drifting over the food. He was dressed in his running gear and had a little sheen on his body. He wiped his face with a towel he had draped around his neck, then picked up a glass from the kitchen counter, rinsed it out in the sink and walked over to the cooler. He opened it and retrieved a pitcher of cold water and poured himself a glass. He put the pitcher back, then slowly drank the water down. He put the glass in the sink, then asked, "Is there any breakfast left?"

"You have a plate in the oven, Blaise," Snape told him.

Blaise removed his plate from the stove, sat down at the table, took a bite out of the banger and promptly spit it back on the plate.

"What is that?" he demanded, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"A vegetarian banger," Draco told him as the wizard stared down at the sausages as if they were made of shit.

"A vegetarian banger? It's disgusting. How can any of you eat that?" he marveled. "These are real beans and tomatoes, aren't they?"

"Of course," Harry said, frowning at him.

"I don't see why we can't eat meat," Blaise complained as he speared a slice of tomato.

"Because things of the flesh block the spiritual," Snape said softly. "We have to be open to the spiritual, Blaise, if we want to rid Boleskine house of the demon influence."

"Bollocks," Blaise snorted. "You don't know that at all. In fact—"

"Listen, Blaise," Ron said. "Hermione has saved my and Harry's arses on a number of occasions because she was smart enough to figure out what had to be done. We wouldn't even be here if not for her brilliance. If she says we aren't to eat meat, we won't eat it. We're going to do exactly as she says. I'm not going to question her, and I'm not going to let you do it, either."

Blaise inserted a forkful of beans into his mouth, chewed, then swallowed.

"Gryffindors," he said disdainfully. "You lot can't think for yourselves at all."

Blaise's brown eyes shifted to Snape, who looked back at him steadily.

"You're shagging her, so—it's to be expected on your part, Snape. But I don't believe in blind obedience. Everything should be challenged to see if it holds up—"

"We've been challenged enough, Blaise. Hermione's always come through—"

"Fine, Weasley. You just do whatever Granger says to do and see where it gets you. All of you. Go ahead."

Blaise rose from the table, taking his plate with him.

"I'll be at Boleskine House if you need me for anything," he said, leaving the kitchen.

Draco rose, too.

"Blaise, wait!" he called.

"Draco, you're supposed to be staying out of Boleskine," Harry said to the blond wizard.

"I'm not going to go in. We can eat outside. I don't know about the rest of you, but Blaise is smart. If he thinks there's something wrong with Granger's approach to all of this, I want to bloody know what that is. He could be right."

"He's not right," Ron hissed as Draco rose.

"You don't know that," Draco said. "Blaise's right about you Gryffindors. You're willing to believe things on face value. We Slytherins—"

Draco's gray eyes rested on Snape with a slight frown.

"Aren't," he finished.

Draco exited the kitchen.

"They're both idiots. Hermione is the brightest witch of her age in the wizarding world. She knows what she's doing," Ron said defensively. "Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"I trust her with my life," Harry declared, then said, "What about you, Severus?"

Snape looked at her two friends.

"I trust her with my life as well," he said softly.

But what he didn't say was Blaise was correct about one thing, and that was no one idea should be just blindly accepted. There could be different approaches to the same situations.

"I'm going to go talk to Blaise and Draco," Snape said, rising.

"Good. You tell them what's what, Severus. That they're to do exactly what Hermione says or go home," Ron advised him.

Snape didn't say anything as he threw away the disposable plate his food had been on. He left the kitchen.

"Snape will straighten them out," Ron told Harry confidently.

* * *

"We aren't Muggles," Blaise said to Snape and Draco as they stood a distance away from Boleskine house. "We shouldn't be involving ourselves with their rituals. Besides, I've seen no concrete evidence of anything being in Boleskine house. Weasley's always been a glutton, Granger, a know-it-all and Draco . . . "

Blaise hesitated for a moment, trying to find a diplomatic way of stating things without insulting Draco.

". . . has always been used to the finer things."

That worked fine. Draco just nodded.

"You have to admit, Blaise, that all three have acted out of character. Their less attractive traits seemed to have been amplified. Enhanced," Snape responded.

"It could just be suggestion. Nerves. Anything. It doesn't mean it's demons. I looked at the terrace today. The sand is still smooth. There are no footprints or anything."

"It could be they only appear during rituals," Snape countered.

"Should. Could. Would. Don't you see it's all conjecture? If these were magical creatures that we know exist, that would be one thing. All things religious are nothing more than the product of Muggle dreaming. There's no truth in any of it. The existence of these things can't be proven. And even if they did exist, they aren't a part of our culture, our way of life. To act like they are is a mistake, Snape. I'm telling you. It relinquishes power, weakens who we are. It makes things Muggle seem more powerful than our own. They aren't."

Snape frowned at him.

"Are you sure this just isn't a reaction to being raised to believe in pureblood superiority?" he asked Blaise pointedly.

Blaise frowned at him.

"We are superior to Muggles. We have real magic and no need to believe in false gods. Surely you can see that. Doing this ritual is—is demeaning and an insult to our people," Blaise declared, shaking slightly.

"I'm half Muggle. They are my people, too," Snape replied, a bit of anger in his voice.

"That's probably why you're so accepting of this madness," Blaise shot back at him.

"Are you calling me tainted, Blaise?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed. Snape was a very talented wizard. The pureblood really couldn't discern any differences between Snape's magical abilities and his own.

"No, not you, but maybe your way of thinking, Snape. You put more truck in it than I do," Blaise said, again, being diplomatic.

Draco just listened as the two went at it.

"Well, I am intimately familiar with Hermione, and I know for fact something in that house is influencing her, and it's unnatural. Weasley was affected as well. You may have been around them longer than I have, Blaise, but I am more familiar with them than you are. Possibly, Draco is just a spoiled, privileged git, and I didn't get that sense about him initially—"

"Hey!" Draco spluttered.

Snape ignored him. He continued to address Blaise

"But, I'm inclined to follow Hermione's lead on this one. Your disbelief and disdain for things Muggle isn't enough to convince me we're going down the wrong path, Blaise. If you can't do this, I suggest you leave Boleskine."

Snape turned and walked away, Draco looking after him.

"Maybe he's right, Blaise. I mean, I understand what you're saying about Muggles and their supposed magic, but what if there are demons here that are different than what we're used to dealing with?"

"That's why I came here, Draco. It's just that I haven't seen anything that proves there is. And if there are, we can't count on Muggle rituals to deal with them. We aren't Muggles. There's something—something more to us," Blaise said.

"Or maybe something lacking?" Draco suggested.

"No!" Blaise snarled at him. "It's ludicrous to think they can be better at anything than we are."

"Not better, Blaise, just have a different approach."

Blaise snorted.

"Draco, you need to find out where your loyalties lie. In the meantime, I'm going into town and get a decent meal. Real bangers," the wizard said.

"Blaise, aren't you going to participate?"

"Sure I am, but I'm going to be well-fed when I do. No meat. Granger is nutters. It can't possibly make any difference."  
"But, you took an oath to do what was necessary. If you don't follow it, there will be magical repercussions. Painful ones."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at Draco.

"Did I? With all of us present, and all that magic swirling about, who's to say who took an oath? Granger would have done better if she'd asked us to take the oath individually, not as a group," he said craftily. "That way she could have been sure each person did. I still have my freedom of choice."

Blaise was Slytherin to the bone.

"See you later, Draco," he said to the gobsmacked wizard.

Blaise turned and walked toward Boleskine House to change clothes. Draco looked after him, still unable to believe he deceived everyone. But deception was a well cultivated Slytherin skill and a highly prized one in Slytherin circles. Blaise had it nearly mastered.

Because of Draco's night in the boathouse, he could think a bit clearer. The wizard had matured because of his experiences under Voldemort. His dark mark reminded him of what he'd been through every time he pulled up his sleeve. It would always remind him how he almost lost everything by taking an immovable position on the side of wrong. He'd learned from that.

So, although he understood Blaise's outlook, he was with Snape on this one. Granger really was a brilliant witch who had pulled plenty of arses out of the fire.

There was no reason to doubt her abilities now.

Draco headed for the boathouse to miniaturize his cot and transfer it to the gatehouse. He didn't agree with what Blaise was doing, but he wouldn't betray him.

Unlike Potter, Weasley and Snape, Draco was his friend.

* * *

A/N: At last, a Looping chapter. I felt I needed to explore Blaise's outlook a bit, because everyone was shooting him down so badly. Now that we know that, we can move toward the adventure portion. I think it's going to be very interesting. Thanks for reading.


	89. A Secret Revealed

**Chapter 89 ~ A Secret Revealed**

As the wizards departed, Ben Weatherstaff emerged from the cover of a nearby copse of trees, the robin on his shoulder. He looked after the young men and shook his head.

"It's happening again, robin me boy-o. No one likes to leave well enough alone," he muttered. "Some things are best left alone."

Robin twittered in agreement, then Ben turned and headed for the garden house to sharpen some tools.

Snape retrieved Blaise and the group of young men explored the grounds on brooms, then Disillusioned themselves and flew over the Loch.

"You think we'll see the monster?" Ron called to the shimmer on his right.

The shimmer, which was Harry, replied, "I don't think the legend is true, Ron."

"It's true," Blaise said from behind them. "The Loch Ness Monster is a water horse. A proper magical creature. It's just that Muggles can't see them clearly. They only catch glimpses of them here and there. Look over by that cove, on the left, by the rocks."

They all looked over to see several Loch Ness Monsters in the distance, gamboling about in the water. There were large ones, medium-sized ones and little ones. All were jet black, had long necks, thick bodies, four flippers and a long, flat, almost whale-like tails, just a bit rounder.

"I'll be gobsmacked. Look at all of them," Ron breathed. "I can't believe they're here and no one sees them."

"They're a bit like Thestrals, but you have to have magic to see them, rather than see someone die," Blaise said.

"It's a wonder Hagrid hasn't taken one and put it in the lake at Hogwarts," Harry observed as a small monster slid down the back of a larger one, splashing into the water playfully as another climbed up its lowered neck.

"Probably wouldn't get along with the Giant Squid. You know how territorial it is. It flings anything in the water back to shore," Harry responded.

"Enough about monsters," Draco said, unimpressed by the beasts. "How about a game of 'Kill the Wizard with the Quaffle?' "

Now, that sounded fun, and would work of some tension. There was something visceral about battling for the ball and knocking people off their brooms in the process.

"Come on, I'll get my Quaffle," Harry said, turning back toward shore, followed by the others.

* * *

"I wonder where they are?" Hermione said impatiently from the doorway of the main gatehouse. "I told them when we'd be back."

"They probably got caught up in something," Susan said as she fixed lunch. "I'm sure they'll be along."

"I see them!" Ginny called. She was standing further out on the grounds.

"It's about time," Hermione muttered, returning to the house.

Ginny watched as they all approached, her eyes rounding as she looked at their condition. Every wizard was covered in dirt, and she could see tears in a couple of their robes. Snape's robes had the collar so stretched, it hung away from his neck.

"What were you all doing?" Ginny asked as soon as they were close enough. All five of them looked tired.

"We were playing 'Kill the Wizard with the Quaffle,'" Harry explained. Ginny just shook her head as she followed them into the gatehouse.

"It's about ti—what happened to all of you?" Hermione demanded, taking in their disheveled condition.

"They were playing 'Kill the Wizard with the Quaffle,'" Ginny informed her with a smirk.

Hermione scowled at Snape, who had quite a bit of dirt on his nose and grass in his hair. He shrugged his shoulders at her.

"Honestly. There's serious business afoot, and you all are out there playing games."

"Well, we're going to have to do something physical to hold us over for the rest of the week, Hermione. We're cut off from all of you," Ron said in their defense. "We need to work off our frustrations. Well, most of us."

Ron looked at Draco and waggled his eyebrows before looking back at Hermione.

"Wanking off isn't really considered sex, is it? So, Draco can keep up his on-going relationship with his hand."

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco snapped at him.

"I have something else to occupy your time," Hermione sniffed. "Now, go clean up and come into the kitchen for lunch. We can go over everything while we eat."

She stalked into the kitchen, followed by a smiling Ginny. She hadn't even noticed Blaise looking at her.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding us," Blaise said with a frown, leafing through the stapled parchments Hermione had handed out to all of them.

"I assure you, Blaise, I'm not kidding anyone. This is the script we'll be following for the ritual. I want everyone to memorize all the lines, even though you won't all be using them. Ron, Blaise, Severus, Harry, Draco, Ginny and I will be the 'chorus.' Our part will be chanting and responding. Susan will be the lead. Harry, you have to learn Susan's part as her understudy, in case anything goes wrong and she's unable to finish."

"Go wrong? Like what?" Ron said, his eyes narrowed.

"She might get laryngitis or something, Ronald. I don't know. And I'll study her part, too, in case Harry comes down with something."

"There's more than thirty pages here. I'm no actor," Blaise complained.

"You don't have to be. Just pretend you're memorizing lessons. You can do it. And you have to do it, Blaise. You took an oath," Hermione said evenly.

Blaise looked up at her, then back down at the script. He didn't answer her. Draco's gray eyes shifted towards him for a moment, then he too, looked back at the script.

"Now, we have a whole week to get this right. As you can see, the actions are written in. When to raise your hands, when to lower them, when to make signs—"

"Signs?" Blaise asked.

"Yes. They're just hand movements. They're the same as wand movements. Mostly to and fro, then back and forth. You do it over your heart. Top, bottom, left, then right."

Blaise didn't like this. He just shook his head.

"I think it's going to be interesting. We can learn our lines and practice together in the evenings," she said with a smile.

"All I ask is that you put Silencing charms around yourselves when you read out loud. I don't want the chants carrying to Boleskine house. I want to keep the element of surprise. So, Blaise, be careful when you're studying. It might be better to leave the house completely."

Blaise sighed.

"Fine. I'll study with Draco," he replied.

Draco felt a sense of relief that Blaise was going to participate.

"Well, there's no time like the present. I'm going to start studying right away," Hermione said, picking up her script and leaving the kitchen.

"We can study together," Ron said to everyone.

"I'd rather not," Blaise replied. "But, I'll know my parts by the end of the week."

He took his script and left. After a moment of hesitation, Draco followed him.

"That figures. Well, we can study together," Ron said to Harry, Snape, Susan and Ginny.

"I'm going to study with Hermione for now," Snape said, also exiting the kitchen.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Susan looked at each other.

"Guess that leaves us," Ginny said.

"That's fine," Harry responded with a smile as he flipped open his script. Susan cast a Silencing spell around them and they all began to read.

* * *

Later that evening, Susan went for her nightly walk around the grounds. She left Ron at the gatehouse, but Ginny wanted to come with her.

"I walk at a pretty good pace, Ginny," Susan said as she laced up her trainers.

"I'm sure I can keep up," Ginny responded with the certainly of the slender.

Well, she was wrong. Half a mile in, Susan began to leave her behind. She had a certain pace that she kept to keep in shape and she wasn't going to hedge on it.

"Ginny, I've got to keep to my usual pace," she said to the redhead apologetically.

"Go ahead, Susan," Ginny said. "You warned me. I don't want to slow you down."

"Thanks."

Susan walked away. Ginny was determined to finish the walk, however, so kept going. It was getting dark, so she pulled out her wand and lit it.

She'd walked another half mile, when she had the creepy feeling she was being followed. She turned and shined her wand behind her, making it brighter. She didn't see anything.

She began to walk faster, her eyes sliding back and forth. She thought she heard something and spun again.

"All right! I know somebody's out there. This isn't funny! Show yourself!" she exclaimed.

She heard a sound from the right.

"Stupefy!" she cried, sending a stunner in that direction. She didn't hit anything.

Now, a low snarl sounded from the left. That was an animal! And a savage one from the sound of it. Ginny took off running, her wand brightly lit. She heard another snarl and turned around, running backwards, shining her wand and ready to hex anything that moved.

Suddenly she tripped over a root and fell to her back. Suddenly, a form hovered over her, slitted green eyes meeting brown ones.

It was a panther and it showed its teeth at her.

Ginny was too terrified to move as the big cat looked down at her. Then suddenly, Blaise stood in its place, offering her his hand.

"You should look where you're going," he said with a smile.

Ginny scowled at him.

"You're an Animagus!" she hissed, ignoring his hand and getting up herself, dusting off her jeans.

"Yep," he said shortly.

"You're also a git! Stupefy!"

And Ginny blasted him right off his feet.

"Chase me across the grounds, will you?" she muttered, walking back toward the gatehouse as Blaise laid there, out cold.

He should have figured it would end this way, based on how Ginny was when they were reviewing.

Live and learn.

* * *

Ginny stormed into the gatehouse. Snape, Ron, Harry, Draco and Hermione looked up at her.

"Where's Susan?" Ron asked.

"She's still out walking," Ginny muttered, plopping down on the couch next to Harry, who knew something was wrong immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked his girlfriend.

"Did any of you know Blaise was an Animagus?" she asked her shocked companions.

Even Draco hadn't known. A chorus of "no" answered her question.

"Well, he is. And he just chased me across the grounds for sport, the bastard," Ginny huffed.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, incensed. "I'll blast him into yesterday! Where is he?"

"Blasted into yesterday. I Stupefied him and left him out there," Ginny responded.

Blaise wasn't very social, so it wasn't odd to anyone when he didn't show up to study. The script was still new, so it wasn't that important he be there yet, just that he learn his lines. Everyone just thought he was at Boleskine house or something. Not running around harassing Ginny.

"What's his form?" Ron asked curiously.

"A panther. A black panther," she answered.

"Cool," Draco breathed. Ginny frowned at him.

"I can't believe that you didn't know. You're his friend," Ginny said accusingly.

"Just because we're friends, it doesn't mean we tell each other everything. We're also Slytherins. Slytherins keep secrets," he responded loftily.

"Yeah, well I wonder what other secrets you're keeping, Draco," Ginny shot back at him.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Weasley," Draco replied, his gray eyes narrowed.

"It just sounds like Blaise was having a bit of sport with you, Ginny," Snape said diplomatically.

Hermione turned toward him, frowning.

"That wasn't sport, Severus. That was frightening. He nearly scared her to death. Surely you don't condone this?"

"She was never in any danger, Hermione," Snape replied evenly. "Blaise was just having a bit of fun."

"Fun. That's not fun," she said coldly.

Snape sighed inwardly. There were some very different outlooks between Slytherins and Gryffindors. Scaring people could be fun. Period. But to Gryffindors, it was some kind of cardinal sin if it were happening to one of their own. If Ginny had scored on Blaise, it would have been fine. Snape remembered how it was with James and the others. They'd done more than scared him and nothing had been done about that. He had been left to his own defenses, just like Ginny had been. If he could handle it, she could.

"Well, Ginny hexed him, so, he's paid for his 'crime,'" Snape said. "Let's just get back to studying this script. All right?"

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say more, but she didn't.

They returned to studying, Harry's face dark.

* * *

Blaise sat up on his elbows and blinked before pulling out his wand and lighting it.

"Oh, blast," he hissed as he realized what happened. He should have had his wand out when he transformed. He knew how volatile Ginny Weasley was. But—she had looked so scared and helpless that he'd let his guard down. Never good to do with anyone.

Particularly Ginny Weasley

No doubt she'd told on him by now, and probably Potter wanted his bit of flesh, too. Blaise stood up and brushed himself off.

Well, it was only fair. After all, he wanted a bit of flesh, too.

Ginny's flesh that is.

He hadn't given up yet.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	90. Tensions Between Friends

**Chapter 89 ~ Tensions Between Friends**

A few minutes later, Blaise walked into the living room of the gatehouse, his brown eyes resting on Ginny.

"Ginny, I— ' he began.

"Hold it right there, Blaise!" Harry cried, standing up and pulling out his wand.

Ginny, Hermione and Ron joined him, as Blaise quickly pulled out his own wand. His eyes shifted toward Snape for a moment, who remained seated. So, did Draco and Susan. Blaise looked back at the grim Gryffindors.

"These odds look familiar to you, Snape? Four to one?" he asked, ready to duel.

"Yes. Yes I do, Blaise," Snape said softly. "I've had to face them often."

The Gryffindors all faltered a moment, then lowered their wands. Blaise's statement and Snape response reminded them of how unfairly he'd been targeted in his youth. Blaise lowered his wand as well.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing, scaring Ginny like that?" Harry demanded.

"I didn't intentionally do it," Blaise responded. "I followed her, but I didn't think she'd start running the way she did. She was almost hysterical. I couldn't understand why she didn't Apparate. She fell and I came over to help her. Then, she hexed me."

Ginny reddened. Yes, Apparating away from danger made a lot of sense, but she wasn't thinking. Now, running seemed so—so stupid of her. Still—

"Why were you following me?" Ginny demanded.

Blaise looked at her. He knew she knew the answer why. He wanted to talk to her again.

"You were out walking in the dark by yourself. Naturally, I was curious as to what you were doing, so, I followed you," he replied.

It was Harry's turn to turn a little red. He'd been guilty of following people all through school because of his curiosity or suspicions. That Blaise would do it, was a reasonable thought.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were an Animagus?" Hermione demanded.

"No one asked me. Unlike you lot, I don't go around showing my form off. But I do like to run about as a panther sometimes. There's a lot of space here. A lot of privacy."

"Still, you nearly scared Ginny to death!" Hermione seethed.

"I was about to apologize when you all drew your wands on me, without knowing my side about what happened," Blaise countered.

Snape listened to Blaise explain himself. He wasn't sure the Slytherin was telling the complete truth. The best way to lie was to mix the truth with the falsehood. It was a standard Slytherin deception. But, Snape did know one thing from the way he and Lily parted ways, and that was Gryffindors weren't big on listening to the other side of anything once they got it in their heads they knew the right of it.

Blaise was an outsider, and a Dark wizard, so _naturally_ he'd been up to no good.

Snape scowled slightly as he looked at his girlfriend and new friends. They were all right with him, but it was clear they still disliked Slytherins immensely.

And despite his situation, Snape was still and always would be, a Slytherin.

"It looks like it was all a misunderstanding," Susan said, trying to defuse the tension. "Can't we just let it go? No one was hurt after all. Ginny, can't you just accept Blaise's apology. He was going to say he's sorry."

Ginny looked at Blaise, who was scowling back at her slightly as if he knew she wouldn't let it go. It was like he didn't believe anything good about Gryffindors. Draco watched silently, but he was ready to help Blaise if they tried to hex him.

Ron had been silent as well, his blue eyes resting on Blaise as he tried to figure out if Blaise was telling the truth, that he hadn't meant to scare his sister. And why hadn't Ginny just Apparated away? She knew the location of the gate house.

"Fine. Just forget about it," Ginny said, putting her wand away and sitting down again.

Harry frowned at Blaise.

"Okay, Blaise. We're going to forget about it this time, but don't you—" he began.

"Don't threaten me, Potter," Blaise hissed at him. "If you want to do something, do it."

There was a tense moment as the two wizards glared at each other.

"Ginny said forget about it, so I will. For her sake," Harry said sullenly, putting his wand away and sitting down, too. Ron and Hermione both sat down. An uncomfortable silence followed, then Blaise spun and left the room.

"I really wish he would just leave here," Ginny said quietly. "We don't need him."

"I know how you feel, Ginny," Hermione said, "but it's not our place to make him go. That falls on Severus."

Everyone looked at Snape, who said nothing.

"That's our answer, then," Ron said. "We have to remember, even though Snape's all right, he's still a Slytherin."

Snape looked up at Ron, feeling his blood begin to boil. The way he said "Slytherin" sounded as if the word "slime" could be interchangeable. They still held their prejudices against his house, and against him.

Hermione could feel his anger and tried to run interference.

"Ron, I'm sure it's not because he's a Slytherin that he won't send Blaise packing," she said in his defense. "Maybe he just thinks he can be helpful. Blaise is a powerful wizard."

"I don't need you to explain my motives, Hermione," Snape said, standing up and closing his script. "Blaise stays."

With that, he left the girl's gatehouse. Hermione followed him.

"Severus?" she called, but he transformed, leapt into the air and winged away.

"Oh, Severus," she breathed after him, her eyes glistening.

* * *

The next few days, Ron and Harry saw very little of Snape during the day. He was spending a lot of time with Blaise and Draco, and could be seen walking the grounds with them, script in hand and a Silencing spell around them.

He did show up at meals, but didn't have much to say except he was learning the script, and he did participate in the evening practices, but he was rather cold, even towards Hermione.

"What's going on with Snape?" Harry asked the fourth night as he watched him billow over the grounds toward their gatehouse, Hermione in the doorway looking after him.

"I think we brought up some old feelings the other night, when we ganged up on Blaise," she said softly. "And when Ron said what he did. It was like rubbing his nose in the fact that he isn't a Gryffindor and that we don't trust people from his house. And it's true. We immediately think the worst, Harry. All the time."

"That's because most of the evil wizards and witches come from Slytherin House," Harry replied.

"Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, Harry. And Professor Slughorn is a Slytherin, and he was the one that brought reinforcements and led the charge at the final battle. We can't keep pin holing people because of the house they're from. Severus nearly gave his life to protect you, Harry—"

"I know that. I don't have a problem with him, Hermione. It's just Blaise isn't like Snape. He's not trustworthy, I just feel it," Harry said.

"You don't know that. All you know is he can be an insufferable git. But we all can be that way."

"Not like him. He's made it an art form."

Hermione chuckled. She couldn't help it. But she quickly sobered.

"Still, Blaise is doing what he's supposed to be doing," she said. "So, that shows he's with the program. Let's just give him a break, all right, Harry? Let's make an effort to be friendlier. It might work. At least, it might make Severus feel better."

"Yeah. All right. We can try, but I think it's a waste of time," Harry replied, as Ron came out the house.

"Ready to go?" he asked Harry.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Hermione. It was a good run tonight. We almost had it perfect."

"We only have two more days to get it right."

"We'll do it. Come on, Ron."

Hermione watched as they headed toward Boleskine house and sighed. As soon as this ritual business was over, she and Severus were going to have a good long talk and clear the air.

* * *

In the privacy of his bedroom, Blaise unwrapped a ham sandwich stuffed with double meat. He bit into it blissfully, chewed and swallowed.

"Mmm," he said to himself. "This beats texturized vegetable protein anytime."

* * *

On the night before the ritual, Hermione gave out the final instructions.

"Now, remember, everyone. We have to have the same kind of intent when we do the ritual as we do when we cast spells and hexes. We have to believe we are being effective, that we are reaching into the spiritual realm and controlling these creatures," Hermione said, pacing back and forth in front of the others as if she were a drill sergeant.

"We have to fast all day tomorrow. No eating at all after sunrise. You can drink water, but that's it. Am I understood?"

Ron slumped a bit, but there was nothing for it. The oath would keep him honest. It had choked the hell out of him a day earlier, when he tried to sneak a kiss from Susan.

"We will meet in the entrance hall of Boleskine house at six-thirty and will begin the ritual at precisely seven o'clock. You are all to bathe thoroughly and wear the white robes I've given you. You aren't to bring your wands, in case our magic interferes with the Muggle magic we're trying to invoke. Wands won't work on these presences, so we won't need them."

Blaise frowned slightly at this. He didn't go anyplace without his wand, for anyone.

"Remember, we keep to the script, regardless of what we see or don't see. If we finish, we start over at the beginning. Susan, you know your part?"

"Backwards and forward," Susan replied with a smile. How exciting this all was!

"Harry, you know the script as well?" Hermione asked.

He nodded. But he wasn't smiling. It was a lot of pressure saying all those lines. He hoped he wouldn't have to replace Susan.

"Good," Hermione said crisply. "Well, that's it then. I suggest we eat as much as we can hold tonight before bed. That will make tomorrow easier. Dismissed."

Blaise and Draco looked at each other and shook their heads. Dismissed? Merlin's short hairs. Hermione had been sounding more and more like a dictator every day.

"I'll be glad when this is over," Draco said in a low voice to Blaise as they headed for the kitchen.

"So will I," Blaise agreed. "The way these Gryffindors have been sucking up to me the past few days is nauseating. I prefer them actually showing that they hate me instead of pretending not to. It keeps things interesting."

Blaise had been getting olive branches from every which way, and no matter how much he snubbed their advances, they still kept coming. Only Ginny didn't make an effort to be friendly.

Now, Blaise wouldn't mind Ginny extending an olive branch, or anything else for that matter. But no such luck. She was coldly polite and that was it. It seemed he'd never be able to crack her shell. He planned to leave right after the ritual

With Ginny so unaccommodating, there was nothing else to stick around for. Besides, he was anxious to start his training.

He was going to be the best Unspeakable the Ministry had ever seen.

* * *

The next day, Ben Weatherstaff watched as the occupants of Boleskine house walked slowly across the grounds dressed in white robes. He then looked upward and saw angry clouds rolling in. The robin was sitting on his shoulder and not making a sound.

"Not again. Of all the stupid, ignorant and dangerous things to do—"

He stood there a moment, then said to robin.

"Come on, old boy. Maybe we can save a couple of them—if I've got time, that is."

He started walking across the grounds to the garden house.

"But, they have magic, and there's a group of them. Maybe—maybe they can do something," he mused as he entered the shed. "But better safe than swallowed up by demons."

He began to dig through his things.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	91. Ritual Gone Wrong

**Chapter 90 ~ Ritual Gone Wrong**

"All right, is everyone ready?" Hermione asked.

Everyone responded in the positive.

"Okay. We enter the room, face the terrace and take the positions like we practiced, a semi-circle behind Susan," she directed. "Now, let's go banish some demons!"

One after the other, they entered the study. There was a large pentagram drawn for Susan and seven smaller ones for the others. Everyone took up their positions.

"The sky doesn't look very friendly," Ginny said, watching black clouds roll in from every direction. The weather began to get bad that morning, when she and Hermione entered to draw the pentagrams with black chalk. It grew exceedingly worse as the time to do the ritual approached. But, the strange part was, there was no scent of moisture in the air at all.

"It's a sign, Ginny. We're already affecting the demons," Hermione said.

Blaise snorted. More than likely it was just a turn in the weather, period.

"All right, Susan. Call them out and declare them bound under the Light," Hermione said.

Susan began the liturgy, the others echoing her words and responding accordingly. Blaise half-heartedly made the to and fro, back and forth sign, but he didn't say any of the words, simply mouthed them.

On the terrace, shadowy figures began to appear, tall and dark. The sands began to show impressions. The chanting faltered as they saw the things that Boleskine house held.

Susan kept up the liturgy, however, as the creatures began to shuffle through the door towards them. Blaise's eyes were narrowed. These things seemed to be little more than ghosts, and who was afraid of ghosts?

One shadowy figure stopped before Susan, who kept up her stream of commands, trying to bind it to the higher purposes of faith. It stood just outside of the pentagram.

Ron, Harry, Ginny, Snape, Draco and Hermione continued chanting, but there was fear in their eyes. Maybe if they had their wands. Blaise gave up all pretense of chanting as he watched the creatures surround them.

_You have made quite the mistake, mortals. You were mostly outside of our influence. We could tinker with your emotions, but not physically affect you—until now. You have crossed into our realm by attempting to control us when none of you have faith—and all of you have arrogance to believe you can fill the shoes of true sorcerers. You are not sorcerers. You have—no power. You have given yourselves to us—thank you._

With that, the creature stepped into Susan and thrust its arms inside her. She screamed in agony.

"Susan!" Ron cried before he too, began scream, an entity thrusting its shadowy limbs inside him from behind. Hermione, Snape, Draco, Ginny and Harry suffered the same fate. Behind the specter that had Susan, a swirling hole appeared above, beginning to draw in air at the vortex grew.

One of the shadowy creatures tried to take Blaise, but it couldn't penetrate the wizard as he whipped out his wand.

"Leave them alone!" Blaise yelled, "Get away from them, you shadowy bastards!"

Papers were beginning to get sucked upward into the churning opening and the wizards and witches began to slide forward.

_You. You are not a part of this. You remain outside. Go in peace.  
_  
"I'm not going anywhere!" Blaise hissed, then pointed his wand at Snape and cast a spell, making him stick in place. But he was still screaming in pain as the shadow creature held him.

"Snape! Transform!" Blaise yelled at him.

Suddenly, there was an unearthly howl and the creature that held him stumbled back from the gryffin. Blaise cast sticking charms on Harry, Draco, Susan, Ron, Hermione, and screamed at the ones who could transform to do it. Ron and Susan turned into their Animagus forms and found instant relief.

The spiritual was blocked by the carnal, or animal side. In their animal forms, the demons couldn't affect them. Blaise had figured out the next level. Blaise himself didn't believe and also was stabilized by the flesh he'd consumed all week. He'd done nothing to really participate in the ritual. He had never believed in it, or the power of the demons and this was why he'd been spared what happened to the others.

But Ginny, Ginny was lifted off her feet. Blaise couldn't get to her in time with his wand, and he desperately leaped, landing on her and holding her as tightly as he could.

_Give us the girl and we will spare the others, we will spare you. Let her go, or you will be drawn in with her. Drawn into the Pit. What is one out of so many? Let her go._

Blaise felt Ginny's body sliding through his arms.

"No! You can't have her! None of us are a part of this! You don't belong here! Any of you! The one who brought you here is dead! You aren't supposed to be here! None of you, and if your existence is based on truth, then you must leave here! This is not your world, this is our world! I don't care what you are, but you don't have more power than we do! Not here! Not in our world! Not in this house!"

_Silence!  
_  
"I banish you!"

_Silence!_

"I banish you!"

_Silence mortal!  
_  
"I BANISH YOU! ALL OF YOU! YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE!"

Suddenly a chorus of howls went up, and the figures all backed away from their victims, Hermione, Harry and Draco falling to the floor gasping. But Ginny was still being pulled upward, Blaise holding on to her legs.

_You don't know what you've done! _

"I don't care. You let her go!"

One by one the creatures began to stretch in long thin lines, then were drawn into the vortex, screeching and wailing as they were sent back to the place of their origins.

"Ginny!" Blaise cried desperately.

"Let me go, Blaise! Let me go!" Ginny called down at him.

"NO!"

With almost superhuman strength, Blaise pulled her down to the floor and spun with her, so he was drawn up toward the vortex. He lost his wand in the process. Ginny screamed, and held on to his hands desperately.

"No! Blaise! No!" she screamed at him.

"Let me go! Ginny let me go!"

"But, they'll take you!"

Ginny's feet were starting to lift off the floor.

Blaise shook his hands desperately. What good was saving her if she was going to martyr herself anyway? Gods, sometimes he hated Gryffindors.

"Let go!"

"No!"

Harry was on his feet, but stuck in place.

"Ginny! Let him go! There's nothing you can do!" he called.

Normally, Harry understood heroism, but this was Ginny and he didn't want to lose her.

Suddenly, Blaise was sucked deeper into the vortex, Ginny dangling, still refusing to let him go. The final shadowy figure thinned and flew past Blaise with a hiss.

"Ginny," Blaise said in despair. "Just let me go. I'll be all right."

"No!" Ginny cried as they were yanked upward.

"I've got her, son!" Ben Weatherstaff cried, grabbing Ginny and tearing her away from Blaise's grasp.

"BLAISE!" she cried as the wizard was sucked into the vortex and disappeared, the opening growing smaller and smaller before it disappeared. Outside, the clouds dissipated and twinkling stars could be seen.

Ginny clung to Ben, sobbing as calm returned.

"He's gone," Ginny cried into the caretaker's shoulder.

"There, there, girl. You should be glad it was just one of you taken and not all of you," he said softly. "And you did what you set out to do. They're all gone now. You cleaned house."

The three Animagi turned back to human form, blinking up at the space where the vortex was.

"Poor Blaise," Susan whispered, her eyes glistening. "He wasn't so bad after all, was he?"

Snape didn't say anything, but his mouth was trembling a bit.

"We're all stuck in place," Ron said softly, avoiding saying anything about Blaise yet. "We don't have our wands—"

Suddenly they heard Ben say, "Finite Incantatum" several times, then they were released.

They looked at the white robed gardener and the knobbly wand in his hand. He still held Ginny protectively.

"You're, you're a wizard?" Hermione asked him, amazed.

"Let's just say there's a reason why the 'Secret Garden' was also known as the 'Magic Garden," he said with a small grin.

* * *

Later, having changed their clothes, Snape, Hermione and the remaining survivors sat around the island in the kitchen, Blaise's wand resting on the top of it.

"I can't believe he's gone," Ginny said softly as she eyed the wand.

"Well, you wanted him gone. Now you've got your wish," Draco said angrily, filled with grief. "He gave up his life for you, Weasley, and probably saved all our arses from his fate."

"That's not fair, Draco," Hermione said. "We didn't want anything to happen to him—"

"Yeah, but I bet my last Galleon, you're glad it was him and not one of you," he spat, his eyes blinking rapidly. "You should have listened to him. He had the right of it all along. Now, he's dead. And I'm—I'm going to have to be the one to tell his parents. He was their only child—"

"We'll go with you, Draco," Harry said. "We'll help you tell them, and tell them how sorry we are."

"You? No, they don't need any insincere condolences. This is my fault. I never should have brought him here."

Draco dropped his face in his hands, and made a sorrowful noise.

"They aren't insin—" Harry started to say, but Ginny put her hand on his arm to stop him.

Ron looked stricken, and Susan was wet-eyed as they sat there numbly. Suddenly Susan stood up and walked out of the kitchen. After a couple of minutes, she returned with a bottle of unopened Firewhisky and several shot glasses.

She lined them up in a row, then filled each of them. She then passed the glasses out. Everyone took one.

She lifted her glass, and the others followed suit.

"To Blaise Zabini. A brave wizard and a true hero," she said softly.

"To Blaise," the others repeated, then tossed back the Firewhisky. This was followed by several coughing fits from the fiery liquid. Only Snape didn't cough.

As he looked around at his water-eyed and gasping companions, he said with a quirk of his lips, "I think Blaise would have enjoyed seeing that."

* * *

Draco did break the news to Blaise's parents, accompanied by his father Lucius. Their reaction was of horror, despair then anger at the way he died. That he died saving someone else was of no consequence. Their boy, their beautiful, talented boy—was dead.

A private memorial was held, and his wand was placed in a glass display case and put on the mantel in his parent's home. Harry, Ron, Susan, Ginny and Hermione tried to attend the ceremony but were turned away. Snape had stayed at Boleskine House, knowing they wouldn't be welcomed there. He felt bad for Blaise, but oddly vindicated. By his sacrifice, he had shown the others that regardless of the House, and the beliefs a person held, they could do the right thing when it was time to act. Blaise could have given Ginny to the demons and insured his own safety as well as the safety of the others. If he had, no one could have blamed him really. It was one life in exchange for seven lives. But instead of choosing who would live, he gave himself.

If that wasn't a hero, Snape had no idea what was. In his case, Voldemort had tried to murder him. He hadn't offered himself up for it. It just –happened. But Blaise had a choice, and made it. That made him a stronger, braver wizard than any of them. Even Harry had to face Voldemort. It wasn't a choice.

Blaise would have made an exceptional Unspeakable.

Snape was in the lab when it felt like the entire foundation of Boleskine house shifted. Several glass beakers crashed to the floor. Alone in the house, Snape raced upstairs to find out what happened. The chandelier in the entrance hall had fallen and there was a strange humming sound coming from the study.

Snape drew his wand and rushed in. He watched as a spinning hole appeared in the floor, growing larger. It looked like the vortex that had taken Blaise.

Suddenly, something was ejected from the spinning hole as if thrown out, and Blaise crashed to the floor.

_And stay out!_

The hole quickly closed as Blaise got up, and brushed off his tattered and slightly smoking robes.

Snape stared at him in amazement, as Blaise looked up at him and grinned crookedly.

"This is going to look really good on my resume," he said, nodding.

* * *

A/N: Lol. I just couldn't do it to Blaise. :) He's a git, but I like his character. Thanks for reading.


	92. A Heart to Heart

Chapter 91 ~ A Heart to Heart

"How—" Snape began as Blaise walked past him.

"I'm starving. Let me get something to eat and I'll tell you what happened," the wizard said, walking past Snape and down the hall. Instead of going into the kitchen, he went to his bedroom and took out the bottom drawer of his dresser, then felt around and pulled out a ham sandwich.

"Ugh!" he said as he looked at the moldy, green thing. He looked at Snape, who was standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. So, Blaise had a stash the entire time. He must not have taken the oath.

"How long have I been gone?" Blaise asked, dropping the disgusting sandwich into the little trash bin beside his night stand.

"About a week and a half. Actually, they're having your memorial today."

"My memorial? What? They think I'm dead?"

Snape nodded.

"Bloody hell. I thought I was only gone a couple of hours. Is there any meat in the cooler?"

Snape nodded again.

"All right. Let's go to the kitchen."

Snape and Blaise walked to the kitchen and Snape sat down and watched as Blaise made himself a large sandwich. He poured a big glass of milk, sat down and took a satisfying bite. He chewed with a look of bliss on his face, then washed it down with some milk.

He looked around the kitchen.

"Where's the Goof Troop?" he asked Snape.

"Who?"

"The Gryffindors. Did they go home?"

"Actually they planned on leaving today, after they went to your memorial service. They wanted to pay their last respects."

Blaise took this in, then arched an eyebrow at him.

"So, why didn't you go?"

"I knew we wouldn't be welcome."

Blaise nodded.

"You're right about that. They'll be lucky if they aren't blasted out of their trainers for showing up. I know my mum and dad, not to mention my relatives. All Slytherins. But, this does make for an interesting situation."

"How so?"

"Well, if everyone thinks I'm dead, I could do some fantastic work for the Ministry. You know, be the 'Wizard with No Name.' type.

"I imagine you could, but—what about your parents?"

Blaise sighed.

"I couldn't do that to my mum," he admitted. "It was just a passing thought, really. Do you have my wand?"

"No. It was given to your parents. It's all we had left of you, after all."

"Yeah, well, I have to get that back, don't I?"

Snape nodded. He was burning up with curiosity.

"So, what happened, Blaise?" he pressed as Blaise bit into his sandwich and chewed slowly, drawing it out a bit. Snape made an aggravated sound.

"Well, I was pulled into this place underground. It was rocky and cold in some places, and other places there were huge fires. All I could see were thousands of shadowy figures. No demons like ours. Just those things, standing about. They couldn't touch me and demanded I go with them to meet the Horned One. I went, and I didn't see any horns on him at all. He was just larger than the rest of them and sat on a throne of stones carved into skulls. Or they might have been real skulls. I don't know.

He tried to get me to recognize his power, but even he couldn't touch me. Then, they found out I could order them about. I made them do a ballet, the Watusi, then a Can-Can. It was hilarious. After that, I ordered them to let me go, and they did. They didn't know what else to do with me. It really only felt like two or three hours at the most. And here I am."

Snape just blinked at him. Can-can?

Suddenly they heard voices.

"It seems they're back," Snape said, getting out of the way as Blaise finished his sandwich and walked over to the sink to put his plate, glass and utensils in. Blaise looked at him.

"Why are you moving away?" he asked as Harry, Ron, Susan, Ginny and Hermione walked into the kitchen, talking about how they shouldn't have gone to Blaise's memorial. They fell silent when they saw Blaise looking back at them in his tattered robes.

Here it comes, Snape thought, ready for the eruption.

"BLAISE!" they cried in unison, then washed over him like a tide, crushing the wizard against the sink as they felt him and hugged him and rubbed his head, making sure he was real.

"Get off me!" Blaise spluttered, trying to throw his elbows as the overjoyed Gryffindors smiled and continued mauling him. All but one.

Ginny. She stood back, starting at him as if he'd come back from the dead.

As far as she was concerned, he had.

Finally, they released him, all smiles and all very, very happy to see him.

Blaise straightened his tattered robes indignantly. He scowled at Snape.

"You could have warned me this would happen. I would have hid," he groused.

Suddenly, Ginny walked up to him, her brown eyes meeting his.

"Blaise—you're back. How?" she asked him softly.

Harry looked at her, but didn't say anything. Of course she'd be emotional. Blaise had saved her life, and they all thought he'd died for her.

"I didn't fit in down there," he said shortly. "Just like here."

Ouch.

Ginny just blinked at him.

"Well, we're glad you're back, Blaise, really we are," Hermione told him as Harry and Ron nodded like twin bobbleheads.

"Hoorah. I'm going to pack now. I need to get home and let my parents know I'm alive," he said, pushing through them and heading for his room.

"He's still a git," Ron said.

"Yeah, but he's a brave wizard," Susan responded.

"He probably just needs some space. Did he tell you what happened, Severus?" Hermione asked him.

They had made up over the days following Blaise's death, with Hermione admitting her prejudice and apologizing for being so judgmental and thick-skulled. Snape was satisfied with that, and a bit of make-up shagging. He got over his anger at Ron and Harry, too, realizing once again, they were basically good sorts.

"Yes, yes he did," Snape admitted.

"Well, don't just stand there. Tell us!" Hermione breathed, sitting down at the island. They were so interested in what Snape had to say, that no one noticed Ginny slip out of the kitchen. She walked down to Blaise's room and looked in the doorway. He had changed out of his tattered robes and was packing his carry-all.

"How are you going to get back to England?" she asked him softly from the doorway.

Blaise turned and looked at her.

"I was planning to ask Snape to take me," he responded.

"Oh," Ginny said. They stood there looking at each other.

"I could take you," Ginny suddenly said, turning a little red as she issued an unspoken invitation that involved more than transport.

Blaise studied her, then returned to stuffing his bag.

"No. I think I'll let Snape take me," he responded, not looking at her.

"What? Why?" Ginny asked, frowning at him.

"Because, frankly, Ginny, I'm over you. You've already given me what you give Harry, and I'm satisfied with that," he said quietly.

"What are you talking about? I didn't give you anything?"

"Yes, you did. I wasn't the only one willing to sacrifice my life, Ginny. You were just as willing to die to save me. You think I didn't notice that?"

"Well, I don't know. I guess so."

"Well, I did," he said, straightening and looking at her. "No one's ever shown me that kind of care and loyalty before, and I've never stuck my neck out for anyone before. You, Ginny Weasley, are trouble. I don't want anything to do with you."

Ginny blinked at him.

"I don't understand. You said, you said you wanted to be with me one time, and I'm willing to do that now. You deserve it."

Blaise shook his head.

"I don't want it, Ginny. You are what is known in shagging circles as a 'Keeper.' You're the kind of witch that gets under a bloke's skin and doesn't let him go. If that had been anyone else getting sucked into that vortex, including Draco, I would have let them go to save my own life. But I didn't do that with you. Nothing has ever happened between us to make me react that way, but still, I did it. No, I don't want to deal with a Keeper, Ginny. The kind of life I'm going to live doesn't have room for that, not even for me thinking about that. If I were to shag you, you'd never get out of my head. I wouldn't be one hundred percent and I need to be to accomplish what I want in life. I'm selfish. I want what I want, and that's to be an Unspeakable. The best Unspeakables have little or no attachments, so they are fearless. They don't hesitate because of a wife or child that will miss them if they die in the line of duty. They're free. And I have to be free as well."

Ginny just looked at him.

"Besides, you have Potter, and he's right for you. I'm not. And I don't want to be. So, it's better that Snape takes me back, you know?"

Ginny nodded.

"Maybe it is, Blaise," she said softly. "But thank you."

"If you really want to thank me, have everyone write a notarized testament as to my fighting off those demons. Now, that kind of gratitude I can use. It will shore up my resume," he told her with a smirk.

"All right, I can do that," Ginny said.

"Good. Now, I need to finish packing," he said, returning to his carry-all.

Knowing she'd been dismissed, Ginny left his bedroom door and nearly walked into Harry, who was coming to look for her.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" he asked her soberly, his eyes flicking toward Blaise's room. There was a slightly worried look in them.

Ginny smiled softly and kissed his cheek.

"I'm fine, Harry, just fine," she replied.

* * *

A/N: A short chapter I know, but I had to clear the air about the Ginny/Blaise thing. It would have been nice to bring them together, but I didn't particularly like the idea of Ginny cheating on Harry, although I can understand her interest in Blaise. He's hot. Lol. Well, thanks for reading. In case you want to know why I'm writing so much, my vision's a little better today and the house is completely empty. Oh and the muse was whipping me nearly to death. I had to write. Thanks.


	93. Epilogue

**Chapter 92 ~ Epilogue**

The friends parted ways for a time, each settling into the next phase of their lives. Ron joined George working at the joke shop. Susan started her catering business, handing out small samples of both her regular food and "food novelties" along with business cards on street corners. She used to have Ron helping her, but he'd eat more samples than he handed out, so she had to fire him and paid younger wizards and witches to promote her goods. Presently, word got around and she soon had quite the following.

Ginny returned to Hogwarts and did very well in her last year, although she missed Harry and everyone very much. She saw Harry during holidays and some weekends. When she graduated, she went to the Ministry of Magic to train to be an Auror, like Harry.

Snape and Hermione worked together happily at Boleskine house, and produced several marketable potions, the most popular being "Liquid Wood," a potion that gave the user a strong, long-lasting erection. It had a fresh minty taste, too. It was well researched by Hermione and Severus. Lucius was more than pleased at the residuals coming in. They more than covered his expenditures for being Snape's patron.

Ron's Transfiguration research made its rounds as well, and he was pressed to write a book outlining his transformation. He did so. It had a simple title:

"O is for Orangutan: Transformation Made Easy."

It fairly flew off the shelves.

Molly was delighted.

"We have an author in the family!" she gushed as she examined the book. On the cover was Ron in his Animagus form, grinning horribly with his big orangutan teeth.

"My, that picture is just awful, Ron," she said, making a face.

"I think it looks just like him," George replied as Ron grinned cheesily.

They all visited Boleskine house often. There was plenty of room and they always had a wonderful time. Sometimes Ben Weatherstaff would join them, enjoying a few Firewhiskys, smoking his pipe and regaling them with stories from the good old days.

One night, Ron informed them that he was going to start giving personal transformation lessons. Then, he asked Hermione to be his first customer.

"What?" she said indignantly. "You're going to CHARGE me?"

"Well, yeah. I have to make money," he replied.

Snape smirked. Hermione might burst into animal form right then and there, she was so pissed off.

"Ronald Weasley. Honestly, you have to be the most thoughtless—"

"Hermione, I promise you, I'll be able to help you. Really I will. No one makes you go wild as I do, unless it's Snape," Ron told her. "I bet your Animagus form is something like—like a Harpy."

"A WHAT?" Hermione screeched at him in a harpy-like fashion as everyone laughed.

Ron got up and walked to Snape's books, reading the titles. He found a book on magical creatures and pulled it out. He sat down next to Snape, and opened the book, Hermione glaring at him.

Ginny leaned into Harry giggling and red-faced, a little high on Firewhisky, while Susan watched Ron, just shaking her head. He was really pushing it.

Ron leafed through the pages, then stopped, pointing at a picture.

"See," he said to Snape showing him the illustration of a screeching Harpy. It had a woman's face, brown, bushy-curly hair, wings instead of arms, feather covered human breasts and legs, and huge taloned feet. It did resemble Hermione a little.

"Hm. I can see a resemblance," Snape agreed before being knocked in the head by a throw pillow thrown by Hermione.

"Yep. A Harpy-like disposition, to be sure," Ron said, nodding sagely before also being hit by a flying pillow.

"I'm not a Harpy!" Hermione screeched again, then stormed out of the room.

"I'd better go after her," Snape said, rising and following her.

Susan chuckled.

"Ron, you're just awful," she said to him as he plopped down beside her with the book, showing her the Harpy.

"Admit it, Susan. It does look like Hermione."

"Hermione!" Snape called, walking down the entrance hall. He heard the door leading outside close and ran to it, opening it quickly. Hermione was standing outside, looking up into the night.

"Hey. We were just joking around," Snape said, catching her by her shoulders.

Hermione sighed.

"I know, Severus. I'm not really mad about the Harpy jokes. But, I've read Ron's book and have tried to find my form, but I can't seem to do it. You and Ron did it on your own. That's how I want to do it."

"There's nothing wrong with getting a little help when you need it, Hermione. You can't do everything by yourself. Haven't you learned that by now? Ron can probably help you. You should be his first customer. I'll pay for it."

"I don't know, Severus."

"Just try it for a couple of weeks, Hermione. You might learn something."

Hermione stood there. Ugh. Actually learning something from Ronald Weasley. Gods, it was as if the whole world had turned upside down. But, and she hated to admit it, he was considered something of an authority and many of the reviews said his methods worked.

"Oh, all right," Hermione said. "I'll try it."

So, Hermione spent the next three weeks basically being tormented by Ron, who found a number of creative ways to piss her off, even bombarding her with whip cream pies.

"You've got to just let it out, Hermione!" he yelled as she chased him around the Burrow with her wand drawn.

"I'll let it out all right!" she yelled back at him, casting a stunner and missing by miles.

She always came home in a foul mood those evenings, raging that she was going to quit. Snape always calmed her down, saying she shouldn't give up, especially after all the hell Ron put her through. And she grudgingly would return, time after time.

One evening, Hermione returned from an evening with Ron. Snape was down in the lab, brewing when she walked in. He turned, surprised she wasn't ranting about how stupid Ron was. He looked at her.

"I've found it," she said softly. "It finally worked. And, I'm not a Harpy."

Snape wiped his hands hastily on a cloth and covered his cauldron, lowering the heat on it.

"So, what are you?"

"Come outside and I'll show you."

Snape followed her up the stairs, wondering what she was. They both walked outside and Hermione turned to face him.

"It's a nice form, but I have to admit, rather ordinary, considering I'm in Gryffindor. I wanted to be something—something more exotic," she said, looking a bit sad.

"Show me," Severus said softly.

Hermione transformed and Snape's eyes widened as he looked down on a perfectly gorgeous lioness.

"What are you talking about, Hermione? You're absolutely beautiful," he breathed kneeling a bit and caressing her head as she looked at him with her golden eyes. She made a little noise in the back of her throat. Snape stood up and ran his hand down her back and over her flank, his eyes glittering now.

"Besides," he said in a low voice. "We're anatomically compatible. For Animagi, it doesn't get much better than that."

Hermione looked up at him shocked, her eyes widening. She hadn't even thought about that. Severus' lower half was all lion.

"Let's break that body in, shall we?" Snape hissed, then transformed into a gryffin.

Hermione snarled at him playfully and bolted across the grounds.

"Squaw-awww—awww," the gryffin sang before streaking after her.

The sex was just as good in animal form as it was in human form.

* * *

Five years later, Snape was free of his patronage. He saved enough money to open a shop with Susan, and of course Hermione. Susan and Ron had married, as did Harry and Ginny. Snape and Hermione were engaged, but wanted to establish their business first. It was quite a shop, with three separate sections.

Snape had an apothecary shop, which opened on Hermione's part, which was a custom spells shop, and then there was Susan's portion, a restaurant where customers could have a bite to eat while waiting to pick up orders. Snape and Hermione's part of the shop was simply called "Custom Spells and Potions." Both of them liked the simplicity of the name and it nicely said what they were offering.

Susan's restaurant, however, was called "The Magical Maw" courtesy of Ron. Everyone thought it was perfectly awful, except for Susan. But the name had moxy, and everyone remembered it. It was a very popular shop. Susan had to hire help and every employee had to take a magical oath not to reveal the ingredients she used in her food. Her recipes were also patented. Snape introduced her to Bartleby, who took care of everything.

A magical partition had to be put up to separate Susan's shop from the smells of Snape's shop. Even though Hermione's spell shop was between them, the scent of boiled cabbages and rotten eggs still carried, and it wasn't conducive to eating. Hermione created one that just felt like a little ripple when passed through, and immediately, the smell of good food was the only scent that could be discerned, unless you were walking to Snape's shop, of course. A little sign that read: "All Smells Stop Here" rested near the partition.

Two years later, Hermione and Snape married on the grounds of Boleskine, friends and relatives in attendance. Hagrid blubbered all the way through the ceremony, and Minerva smiled, thrilled for Severus. It seemed this time around, he got what he truly deserved.

Ron watched as Snape and Hermione kissed, then said, "That's it. We're all done in, now. At least Snape held out the longest."

Harry laughed as both Ginny and Susan elbowed them. Both witches had rounded bellies and were due in a couple of months.

As Snape walked Hermione down the aisle, arm and arm, he said softly, "Two legs or four?"

He was talking about the honeymoon night.

Hermione gave him a naughty smile, then crooked one hand into an imaginary claw and scratched at him playfully.

"Rowr," she said, with a wink.

Snape couldn't be more pleased.

Yes, time had looped for Severus Snape, thrown him back, stolen his memories, and made him have to start his life over again. At the time, it seemed like a disadvantage. But given a choice of the events, he much preferred this outcome than the other he had read about. He had lived a pain-filled life. Alone and despised, he was a dark soldier, the manipulated protector of a Light that didn't seem destined to ever shine on him.

But a fateful accident caused those misaligned scales to readjust themselves, and what others might consider misfortune became his greatest fortune of all.

This time around, Severus Snape had friends, opportunity and success. More than that, he was given love and learned how to love deeply and fervently in return.

He had lost everything he was, but if this were misfortune, so be it. He'd become everything he could be.

As he looked at his wife Hermione, beaming at up him, her brown eyes filled with love and expectancy, Snape had no regrets.

No regrets at all.

* * *

"Hey, it's open!"

"I don't like those glyphs. There's something nasty down there, I'm sure of it. The last group never came back from this site."

Several wizards stood around the open hole at the base of the pyramid, staring down into the dark tunnel. One knelt and shined a flashlight in it. It was a tunnel that yawned into blackness on a slope.

"It's a slide. Don't care for what's on the end of it. Couldn't pay me to go down there."

A figure strode into the midst of the wizards. They pushed back their hats and looked at him.

"That's why they pay me the big Galleons," Blaise Zabini said with a wicked smile before he pulled out a huge flashlight and leapt into the hole. "Tallyhooooo!"

"That wizard is off his nutter. One day he's going to jump into something he can't climb out of!" one wizard claimed

The others just shook their heads.

Blaise placed a slowing spell on himself to bring his descent down to a crawl. Good thing, too. There were sharp stone protuberances in this tunnel that would have sliced him to pieces from his nads up. He carefully blasted them away as he descended, then brought himself to a stop at the tunnel's end. He carefully shined the flashlight down, looking at the floor. There was no floor, but a pit with stakes. On those stakes were shredded clothing and bodies.

"Well, we know what happened to the last group," he said to himself.

He shined the light around. He was in a large chamber. A stone pedestal rested in the center of the room with a small stone bottle on top of it. There were hieroglyphs on the walls of old gods and men. The profiles of the etchings weren't exactly level to the stone. Blaise's brown eyes rested on them, and he grinned slightly before Apparating directly to the pedestal. No doubt the floor leading to it was booby-trapped. He saw the holes in the wall. Something nasty would probably shoot out of them if triggered.

Blaise put down his flashlight, pointing it upward so the room was dimly illuminated. Taking a deep breath, he blasted the floor then cast a Protego spell around himself. He'd been right, a barrage of sharp stone arrows rained down on him from all sides. He would have looked like a bloody porcupine. The barrage stopped, but Blaise waited.

Sure enough, another rain of stone arrows rained down on him.

Blaise waited for more than an hour encased in the spell. Some protections were timed, just in case there were survivors. Finally he turned to the bottle, studying it. He didn't see any triggers but he reinforced the Protego spell and lifted the bottle.

A huge stone dropped and shattered above him, pieces sliding down and forming a rubble wall about 2 feet high around him. That would have crushed him and the bottle into a pancake.

Well, he had what he came for. Actually, he was just supposed to clear the way, but he was a bit of a show-off. It looked good on his resume. Everything he did, was for that resume. Now it was time to get out of here. As he removed the spell, picked up his flashlight and began to climb over the rubble, he heard a number of groans.

He looked at the walls. The images were pulling themselves out of their stone casings. They weren't hieroglyphs. They were mummies. About fifty of them all total.

Blaise smiled manically, sat the flashlight on the floor and pulled out another wand, so he had two grasped in his hands. Slowly he spun as the creatures shuffled closer.

"Come and get some, boys!" he breathed, then started blasting.

THE END

* * *

A/N: And that is the end of "A Looping of the Scales." I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. ***


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